Enough To Make The Angels Weep
by sym64
Summary: Steve's friends have to learn the hard way that surviving a brutal act of violence might not be what they have wished for.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Enough To Make The Angels Weep

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still not mine. And I still don't make any money from it.

**Summary:** Steve's friends have to learn the hard way that surviving a brutal act of violence might not be what they have wished for.

**A/N:** My dear readers, you totally overwhelmed me with your response to "WHY?".

It seems that there is a high demand for more to it. I must say I was very happy and content with my ending. I actually gave you a happy-end. That is why I made this a separate story and left "Why?" as a stand-alone.

Are you aware of what you did with wishing for more? You just gave me another shot at killing poor Steve.

What? You do remember that Dr. Young told them that Steve would have a chance if he survived the first 72 hours? He is just at that mark.

And do you even know who you are asking for more to this? I don't write fairy tales. In my eyes, Steve is very seriously injured. His level of injury at T6 comes with so many complications. You know I decided on T6 for a reason. Yes, put another evil grin in here.

You know, now that you have asked for more, you will get that. Lots more. I can't write just one chapter with a magical recovery. That is not gonna happen.

You should have taken the happy-ending, but now the outcome of this story is back in my hands. Big mistake. LOL

I hope you will enjoy this part of the story. And again, THANK YOU for your overwhelming support.

And again thanks to Cokie who was really the instigator for more to this madness. ;-)

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep - Chapter 01**

_**Queens Medical Center - ICU**_

"OK, I have downgraded Commander McGarrett's status to 'critical but stable'," Dr. Young told Catherine and Danny.

They had just sat down in his office after leaving Steve's beside. He had gone back to sleep after barely being awake for five minutes, even missing out on seeing Danny.

"So, how much longer will he stay in the ICU?"

Dr. Young frowned at the detective's question and hesitated before replying. "I don't think you quite understand the seriousness of Commander McGarrett's condition."

"But he woke up."

"Barely, Detective. The commander is not out of the woods by a long shot," Dr. Young told his two visitors. "As I told you three days ago, if he makes it through the first 72 hours he has a chance. That does not mean his survival is a given."

"What do you mean?"

Young looked at the two friends in front of his desk and wondered for a moment if they were just dense or if they had a trust in their friend's ability to beat everything that went beyond his understanding. Or maybe they thought he was a miracle worker. Well, he would take the wind out of their sails right away.

"Catherine, may I call you Catherine?"

"Of course."

"The Commander-"

"Please call him Steve," he was interrupted by Catherine Rollins.

"Steve. Good. As I said, Steve's injuries are severe. We fixed his lung as good as we could, but the bullet did a lot of damage. At the moment his right lung only has a capacity of about fifty to sixty percent," Young said, but stopped when he saw two shocked faces in front of him. "Did you expect him to be back to normal after the surgery?"

"I was hoping… yeah, to be honest I thought you fixed it."

"Yes, Catherine, we did. But he will need therapy to get back to normal. But honestly, that is not of much concern at the moment."

"Then what is?"

"Danny?" After the detective nodded, Young continued. "The bullet went through the lung tissue which didn't slow it down at all. It hit the sixth thoracic vertebrae with full speed. Why it didn't shatter the bone and sever the spinal cord is a question we can't answer. We were completely shocked when we saw how 'little' damage it had done." Young used air quotes for the description of little. "Normally the bullet would have cut through the spinal cord and render the patient paralyzed for life without any hope of recovery."

"But that didn't happen?" Catherine asked.

"No. By, what I can only call divine intervention, it was stopped by the bone," Young explained. "But the impact did a lot of damage to the bone and also the surrounding tissue. He has to thank the EMTs on scene for moving him with such care that they didn't injure his spine any further. They did an amazing job," Young praised the first responders.

"So, if the spinal cord isn't injured… he will be fine, right?"

"No, Danny. It's not that easy. Due to the trauma there was extensive swelling and a lot of pressure on the nerves. They were severely compromised. They still are. The swelling is still not completely down. Despite our best efforts."

"But he's breathing on his own."

"Yes, Catherine, he is. But the level of his injury wouldn't normally call for assisted breathing. So, the function above the injury is slowly coming back. We still need to watch his breathing closely because his abdominal muscles and most importantly his intercostal muscles-"

"Intracoastal what?" He was interrupted by Danny.

"Intercostal muscles. Those are muscle groups that run between the ribs. They help you move the chest wall. They are an important part of breathing."

"They make the chest expand?" Catherine asked.

"In easy terms, yes they do. And the muscle groups are affected by his level of injury. So we have to watch his breathing very closely. At the moment it is OK, but he could get in trouble if he was speaking or needed more air because of any kind of activity."

"But he will be fine when the swelling is down, right?" Danny asked again.

The doctor slowly shook his head. "That is highly unlikely," Young answered.

"What do you mean? I thought his spine was not directly injured?"

Young sighed and looked at the two people. They were difficult to deal with, way too stubborn to accept the commander's severe injuries. "Look, I know this is very hard to wrap your head around. But right now we have to treat his injury as if it was a category B spinal cord injury."

"Which means what?" Cath asked.

"It indicates an incomplete spinal cord injury with sensory but no motor function below, and in Steve's case, also above the injury level at this moment," Young explained. "I think with time Steve will recover motor function, but I'm not able to tell you right now when or how much of it will return."

Danny stood up and walked behind his and Catherine's chairs, pacing and waving his hand in the air. "Why not?" he insisted. "I mean his spine is not cut." Danny needed more answers.

"No, it's not," the doctor again agreed. "But the pressure on his spine causes damage to it. In fact, even as we speak. Even if the pressure was completely gone right now, Steve still would not be able to move. The nerves need time to recover from the trauma," the doctor further explained and paused, wondering if he should tell them more or if they had already reached their limit to process the information. But he knew they had to learn the truth at some point so he continued. "At the present time, there is no way of telling if he will recover his motor functions or if the trauma was too severe for the nerves to function at full capacity again."

_**H50 - H50 - H50**_

The first difference Steve noticed was that he could move his head. It had been frightening the last time he had been awake not being able to move. Steve slowly turned his head towards the voice coaxing him to open his eyes.

This time it was also easier to obey and soon the man from before came into focus.

"Commander, do you remember me?"

"Dr. Young," Steve slowly said.

"That's right. I'm your doctor. Do you remember that you're in the ICU?"

"Uh huh," Steve commented and turned his head to look around the room. "Why?"

"You were shot in the chest. We operated on you to remove the bullet."

"How bad?" Steve already guessed it must be pretty bad. He could feel all kinds of stuff attached to him.

"There was extensive damage to your right lung, and the bullet fractured a vertebrae, but didn't injure the spinal cord itself."

Steve listened to what his doctor told him and breathed a sigh of relief to hear that his spine was intact. But it dawned on him that something was not quite right about what he had just heard. And then it hit him. He couldn't move his legs, or even his arms.

He heard the increase in his heartbeat and felt panic rising. Steve looked in alarm at his doctor, "Can't move."

"There was a lot of swelling around the spinal cord from the trauma, but it is going down. You just have to hang in there."

"Don't give…," Steve begun but had to stop to breathe. It was suddenly hard to get enough air to talk. "Me any bullshit. I know what… pressure on the… spinal cord means." After this short sentence Steve felt like he had run a marathon; he was completely out of breath.

"Calm down, Commander, or I will have to sedate you," Young warned.

Steve made an effort to keep his breathing down, and to quell the panic. After a couple of minutes he felt like he was back in control. "OK, what's the plan?"

"That is what I need to discuss with you. Do you feel up to it? Are you in any pain?"

"No, no pain. I'm tired though," Steve said with a low voice.

Steve listened as his doctor outlined the finer points of the injury to his spine and his options. "So, I can take the surgery… or not?" Steve asked in confusion.

"Your latest MRI again showed that your fracture is stable, and you are not in danger of extensive movement," Young explained. "We would fit you with another TSO to keep your spine immobilized."

"TSO?"

"It's a brace fitted for you, a bit like the one you have now. Your back gets the support it needs and you wouldn't be able to bend or move sideways. Your vertebrae could heal without a risky operation. It's a good option for stable fractures."

"What do you suggest?"

"If you were mobile I would recommend the surgery, but to be blunt, Commander, you won't be moving around for a few weeks. The brace is the better option for you at the moment."

Steve looked at his doctor and had to admit that he liked him. He didn't hold back, and Steve had always been someone not to sugar coat anything. "OK."

"Good. Later today our specialist will take all your measurements to make your brace. Commander, don't fight sleep, you need the rest."

Steve listened to Young and it was already a struggle to follow what he was saying, so he gave in to the pull sleep had on him. His last thought was why Catherine wasn't here.

_**H50 - H50 - H50**_

Steve could hear Danny and Catherine softly talking, obviously so not to wake him. But he had been awake for a few minutes now. He had no idea how long he had been asleep after the guy who took his measurements had left. It had hurt to be moved, and he had been grateful when he had been done with it.

A nurse had come and injected something into his IV which Steve thought she should have done before that guy had started torturing him. But that was as far as he had come before he had fallen back to sleep. Or was knocked out by the narcotics.

"Whatever," Steve grumbled.

"Steve? Are you awake?" Danny asked.

"Next time you drink all the beer, _**you**_ go fetch some more," Steve answered without opening his eyes.

"I promise, Buddy," Danny answered with a chuckle. "How do you feel?"

"Can't feel much of anything, they doped me up pretty good," Steve said with a low voice and finally opened his eyes. "Hey," he greeted his two friends.

"Hey yourself," Cath said. She stepped closer and gently laid her hand on the side of his cheek before bending down for a soft kiss. "You look a lot better than a couple of days ago."

"Days? How long… have I been… here?" Steve asked and wondered why he had to catch his breath. He couldn't seem to take enough air in to speak fluently.

"You were shot Friday night, now it's Tuesday. You remember being awake yesterday?" Catherine asked.

"Kind of. 'M not sure. What happened?" Steve asked and looked at his girlfriend, but closed his eyes when another wave of pain washed over him. "Chest hurts," he whispered.

He hadn't even finished speaking when the nurse came into the room. "Commander, everything OK? Your heart rate suddenly increased quite a bit. Are you in pain?"

"Chest and back."

"That was to be expected after all the testing. I'll increase your pain meds a little, OK?" Nurse Mikala said and pressed some buttons on a device behind Steve's bed. She also checked all the lines and tubes attached to Steve. After a minute she turned back to her patient. "How's it now?"

"Better, thank you," Steve answered and relaxed when the drugs did their work.

"Good," she said and smiled at the two friends watching her tending to Steve. "I'll be back again later. Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you," Cath said and watched her leave. "Maybe you should sleep some more-"

"No, just tell me… what happened please," Steve interrupted her. "I need to know."

"OK," Catherine agreed and took her place to his right, again taking his slack hand into hers. But looked down in surprise when she felt him lightly squeeze her hand.

"It's the only thing I can do right now," Steve told her smiling upon seeing her surprise.

"The rest will also come back, Steve," she again said with conviction and squeezed his hand back. "OK, where was I?"

"You haven't even started," Steve said and rolled his eyes at her. Which made her grin. It felt almost normal to talk to her like this.

Of course all normalcy left the room when Steve looked down at his body. He was only covered with a light sheet over his midsection, his legs were still exposed and rested in the leg-shaped foam pillows, keeping them at a certain angle. His elevated body was wrapped in bandages and casted with a brace that kept his upper body immobile. Which was a joke since he couldn't move even if he wanted to. But the doctor had told him it was of great importance to keep his spine completely immobile for the fractured bone to heal. Thankfully his head was free to move.

"Steve? You with us?"

"What?"

"You kind of zoned out there for a moment," Danny told him.

"Sorry. Please continue."

"OK. What do you remember?" Catherine asked him.

"Uh, I came home… and there was no beer," he said and again had to stop to take a deeper breath, which was hard to do. "I drove to "Kim's", got out… of the truck. That's it."

"You can't even remember going into the shop?"

"No."

Now Danny took over to tell Steve what happened after he had entered the store. "You went in the back door like you always do. You were barely inside when a bullet hit you in the chest. You went down and were unconscious all within 30 seconds of entering the shop," Danny told him and stopped. He looked at Catherine and then back at Steve. "You died there on the floor. The EMTs couldn't revive you but brought you to Queens, working on you the entire trip. You were taken to the OR without even stopping in the ER."

"Who shot me?"

"Sean Keoni."

"Who?"

"He's a 19 year old junkie who was high on speed and cocaine when he robbed Kim's store."

"Is Mr. Kim OK?" Steve wanted to know.

"John Kim was shot," Catherine softly told him. "We attended his funeral yesterday."

"John's dead? He was just… on a two week leave… from his duty in Iraq," Steve told them sadly. "How is his dad?"

"He is… OK I guess, but his grandfather took it very hard. He witnessed both his grandson's murder and you being shot. He hasn't spoken a word since."

"Did you get the guy?"

"When HPD heard you had been gunned down, everyone started looking for the guy caught on the surveillance tape. A lot even came back from off duty to help find him," Danny told him.

Steve was moved by such show of Ohana among the police force. "Thank you."

"They arrested him a couple of hours later. He has already confessed and will be charged with murder and attempted murder of a police official. He's facing life," Danny further explained.

"That won't bring… John Kim back," Steve said with a soft voice. "I'm sorry I didn't prevent any of-"

"Stop. Don't go there, Steve. You are as much a victim to this senseless crime as Kim. You couldn't have known that a robbery was in progress. None of this is your fault," Danny vehemently told him.

"I want to… see the tape," Steve voiced his request.

"Later you can. Dr. Young would have our heads if we showed you anything work related right now," Catherine said and raised her hand, stopping Steve's complaint. "I promise we will show it to you. When Dr. Young says it is OK to do so."

"OK, fine."

"Fine? Just like that?" Danny asked.

"Danny, I'm not gonna… jeopardize my life… for a stupid video… I know I'm at high… risk for any kind… of complications," Steve told his friend and wondered if Danny was aware of all the stuff that could happen to him. He leaned his head back and tried to catch his breath, but it was getting harder to breathe.

Steve weakly coughed, but due to his level of injury his coughing was not very effective. Even though patients with Steve's injury wouldn't normally require assistance, their breathing and cough ability would be compromised. Below T9 it rarely affected the breathing, but Steve's T6 was well in the range of breathing complications.

"Can't breathe," Steve managed to say while he still tried to draw in a decent amount of air.

A moment later he more felt like saw a lot of activity around him. Suddenly an oxygen mask was pressed over his mouth and nose and he felt air being pressed into his lungs. He greedily sucked it in, hoping the gray spots that had invaded his vision would recede.

His eyes closed on their own account and he was just too tired to fight against the pull the darkness had on him. The last he heard was Catherine calling his name.

_**H50 - H50 - H50**_


	2. Reality Check

**Thank you all so much for reading and commenting. Enjoy the next chapter.**

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Week  
Chapter 02 - Reality Check**

"What happened?" Catherine asked when Dr. Young finally came out to the waiting area.

Danny and Cath had been asked to leave when it had been clear that Steve was in distress. They had only reluctantly agreed. It took almost fifty minutes of waiting until they could talk to Steve's doctor.

"Let's sit down," Young said and motioned to the group of chairs near the window.

"Is Steve OK?"

"He is stable for now," the doctor answered.

"What exactly happened?" Catherine asked again.

"He wasn't getting enough air for all the talking he was doing and because of that his oxygen level sank. And that caused a chain reaction. His heart rate went up, his BP was all over the place, and he struggled to get air in the entire time," Young explained just a few things that happened.

"But he's OK now?"

"He is as good as can be expected just four days after surgery. We have him on BPAP at the moment."

"What's that?" Danny wanted to know.

"It's a mask that helps him fight the hypoxia. It creates positive airway pressure which lets him breathe more easily," Young explained and seeing their questioning faces continued. "It's non-invasive and he won't need it for long."

"It's an oxygen mask that presses air into him?"

"Something like that, Danny, yes. Please remember what I told you this morning; Steve is still listed as critical," Dr. Young again emphasized. He was pretty sure that Commander McGarrett's friends still hadn't realized how serious his condition really was. "I have to ask you to come back tomorrow, he can't have any visitors for the remainder of the day."

"What? No-"

"Danny! I think Dr. Young is right. We should let Steve rest and come back in the morning," Catherine said and turned to Young. "You will call us right away if there is any change?"

"Of course. But Steve is stable for now, he will sleep at least until morning. Go home, get some rest yourself, Steve will need you soon."

"OK, we will be back in the morning," Danny agreed.

"No, just one of you," Young told them the new rule.

Neither Catherine nor Danny were happy with that, but had to agree that Young had been very supportive of their wishes to see Steve so far. So, if he thought it best to limit the visitation rights for now, they would agree to it.

"OK. Thank you, Dr. Young, for all you've done for Steve."

"You're welcome, Catherine. I won't be here tomorrow, but you can talk to Dr. Hill if you have any questions."

"Thank you."

They watched Young leave before Danny spoke. "We need to go to HQ, Chin called when you were in the restroom. We have a case."

Catherine only nodded. They both knew it would happen eventually that they would be called back to work. They didn't have the luxury of sitting at Steve's bed 24/7, no matter how much they wished they could. But that was how life worked; neither could always be there for the ones they loved.

H50 - H50 - H50

**Queens Medical Center - ICU - early morning the next day**

Steve woke to the sound of the nurse preparing the utensils needed for him to get cleaned. Up until now he hadn't been awake for it, so this would be his first time.

"Commander, good morning. How do you feel?" The way too chipper nurse asked.

"Tired," Steve said and worried why he still felt so tired even though he just woke up from a sleep that he knew lasted many hours.

"Commander, that is completely normal, don't worry about it."

" 'K," Steve answered and watched the older nurse a bit nervously.

"I will make you a bit presentable and then you will get your first meal," Nurse Jamari said but then laughed. "Well, 'meal' is a big word for what you will get," she told him with a friendly smile. "We took the IV out last night, and today we will start you on a liquid diet."

"Oh joy," Steve grumbled. But he didn't really care either way, he was not hungry at all. And he was thinking with dread about that whatever he put into his body had to come out again. So far he knew he had gotten his nutrition through the IV. And that stuff didn't go through his digestive system. But at some point he had to start eating again.

"It's not as bad as it sounds. We even have different flavors."

"Uh huh."

Jamari again smiled at him and he couldn't help but smile back. She was really nice.

"Tell me if anything I do hurts you, OK?" Jamari said and started with her routine.

Steve had to admit that she was really gentle and he didn't feel any pain as she cleaned him up from head to toe, but he still hated every minute of it. He felt completely helpless and exposed even though she made sure that he wasn't at any time.

He looked down and watched her place his legs back into the special pillows. It was very strange to feel her touch him but not being able to move at all.

After fifteen minutes she was finally done and went to get another tray she placed at the end of the bed between his legs.

"What do you say to getting rid of that tube? Dr. Hill ordered the catheter to come out to avoid the risk of infection," Jamari explained what she was about to do.

"What about… you know?" Steve asked and felt kind of embarrassed when she went to work to pull the Foley out.

"We will empty your bladder using intermittent catherisation. Later, when you have the use of your arms back, you will learn to do that yourself. With time you might not even need any catherisation, but we'll see," Jamari explained.

While she had explained what would be part of Steve's life for the foreseeable future she took the catheter out and cleaned him up again afterwards. "See, all done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Didn't hurt."

"That's good. I will leave you alone for a few minutes and then bring the breakfast, OK? Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good," Steve said, and was surprised that he actually was. He wasn't in pain at the moment and he could breathe almost normally. A huge improvement from yesterday when he felt like he couldn't get any air in.

"Alright, I'll see you in bit." With that Jamari left Steve alone.

It was the first time that Steve felt well enough to actually look at his surroundings. He of course knew that he was in the ICU, and would probably stay there for a few more days if not a couple of weeks.

He had to smile when his eyes settled on a huge get-well-card pinned to the glass wall with medical tape. He knew without even reading the colorful card that it was from Gracie. Steve knew that she must be bugging her dad to come see him, but he also knew that he was a long way from that actually happening.

He was acutely aware that he was in the ICU for a reason. If the inability to move wasn't indication enough, the heavy equipment next to his bed made sure that he didn't forget that he had been shot and almost died.

_You did die_, he remembered what Danny had told him. That he had died on the floor at Mr. Kim's. His thoughts wandered to the old man and what kind of shock that must have been for him. Steve was suddenly overcome with great sadness, not for himself, but for the Kim family who had lost their youngest generation. John had been an only child; that meant their family line ended with his death.

He tried to remember the incident to analyze if he could have avoided any of it, but he came up with nothing. There was just no memory of it. He knew from dealing with trauma victims both with Five-0 and before with the Navy, that the traumatic event often erased the memory completely. But he found it strange that it had happened to him. He was a combat trained professional, so why couldn't he remember any of it?

Steve's thoughts were interrupted when Jamari came back with his breakfast. Which he eyed with great suspicion. He had existed for a long time on military rations and very strange meals out in the field, but that didn't mean he was adventurous when it came to his eating habits. And what Jamari held in her hands looked very adventurous… to say the least.

"I promise it doesn't taste as bad as it looks. It actually tastes a bit like kiwi. I'm sure you will like it."

"I highly doubt that," Steve mumbled.

"Come on, give it a try," the nurse encouraged him.

Steve hesitantly sucked on the straw Jamari held for him and was pleasantly surprised when the thick liquid hit his taste buds. It did taste good. He smiled at his nurse and drank some more of the smoothie-like breakfast.

"See, told you it wasn't so bad." Jamari grinned at him. "For lunch you will get a cream soup, well, OK there is not really any cream in it, but it looks like it."

Steve actually had to chuckle at that, but stopped when fierce pain shot into his chest. "Don't make me laugh," he panted out.

"Sorry. Take slow breaths," Jamari was suddenly all business and watched the monitors behind his bed.

"Fuck, that hurts," Steve cursed and closed his eyes when the pain seemed to increase. He heard the telltale click of the pump attached to his IV and knew another dose of probably pretty strong pain meds was just released.

"I'll talk to Dr. Hill, maybe your intervals need to be adjusted. You shouldn't experience such pain."

"No, it's OK," Steve said but didn't open his eyes.

"No, the pain is counterproductive to your healing process. Pain management is extremely important in your case," his nurse explained. "Is it getting better?"

"Yeah, it's just a dull pain now."

"Good. Try to keep your breathing slow and even," she said and took his slack hand and placed it on a part of his chest that was not bandaged or covered by the brace for his spine. "Can you feel the rise and fall?"

"Yeah?"

"Try to slow it down a little more."

Steve managed to slow his erratic breathing and was amazed how helpful it was to feel his chest moving. "I'm OK now. Thank you," Steve said and looked at her after he finally opened his eyes again.

"You're welcome. Try to rest a little. Dr. Hill will be here in about an hour."

"Who's Dr. Hill?"

"He's Dr. Young's assistant. Young has the day off, but Dr. Hill is very good. You'll like him," Jamari predicted.

Steve nodded and watched his nurse adjust the monitors before she left him alone again.

Steve stared at the ceiling and wondered what that new doctor would tell him. Thinking about that he dozed off.

H50 - H50 - H50

"Commander, I'm Dr. Hill and I'm responsible for your care today. How do you feel?"

"Call me Steve, please."

"OK, thank you. So, Steve, how do you feel? The nurse told me you had been in pain this morning?"

"Wasn't so bad," Steve said.

"Don't hold back when you feel any pain. It's important to manage your pain level as best as we can. It's important for your healing process. So, tell the nurses if you need more meds. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Now, Steve, we need to talk about your injury. I think you're up to it now. Is that OK with you?"

"Uh huh," he answered with a bit of fear in his voice.

"Dr. Young talked to you about the TSO and that you should be fitted with it later today or maybe tomorrow?"

"Yeah, they took the measurements and he said he'd come by again," Steve slowly said so to avoid getting out of breath again.

"And Dr. Young already told you that your spinal cord was not directly injured?"

"Yeah, he did. But I know my chances are not good, right?"

"Well, there had been a lot of swelling and trauma to the surrounding tissue. There still is slight pressure on the nerves."

"That's not a good sign, isn't it?" Steve asked quietly, his eyes staring at his inactive legs.

"No, not really," the doctor admitted. "If there is no motor function 72 hours after the trauma happened, the chances that it will improve are not good. However, it always gets worse before it gets better. But the fact that you have no motor function below the injury and very little above is worrisome after five days."

"Are you saying I won't recover even though my spinal cord was not severed?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. It is too early to give any definite prognosis, but the chances of a full recovery are not good."

"So, what can I expect in the coming weeks?" Steve asked with a low voice.

"We think that you will get full use of your arms and hands back. Your level of injury shouldn't affect them. We are confident you will recover full mobility of your upper body above the point where the bullet hit the vertebrae. And with therapy you will also get full function of your injured lungs back. But in what timespan you can expect to be back to a hundred percent we can't say yet."

"What about below T6? What about my legs?" Steve asked with trepidation. He knew that a T6 injury was pretty high and that most of his trunk would also be affected. Which meant that he wouldn't even be able to sit without extensive training.

"That remains to be seen. The pressure on the nerves below T6 was very intense. The pressure above was only minimal, which is why we're sure you will be OK. But everything below… Steve, I'll be honest… your chances are not good. BUT you do have sensory function, which is a plus. That means there is still hope."

"Yeah, hope," Steve mumbled. "So, what is the plan of action?"

"First, you need to recover from the GSW. That was a really close thing, Commander. You're not in the clear yet. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that. You are at risk for all kinds of complications; that is one of the reasons for you to be in the ICU for at least another week. Until that wound begins to heal, we can't start with any intense therapy. So, for the time being, hang in there."

Steve nodded, he knew there wasn't much he could do right now. Not just because he was paralyzed but also because his body had been through great trauma and needed time to heal.

H50 - H50 - H50

**ICU - early afternoon**

Catherine Rollins looked at the man she loved. He was sleeping right now, and looked a lot better than he did yesterday. It had frightened her to see him in such respiratory distress and then finally watching him pass out from lack of oxygen.

Seeing him now resting so peacefully she noticed a few changes from the last time she laid eyes on him. The central-line IV was gone, only the one in his arm was still there. She knew it was there to help keep him hydrated and of course to administer pain medication.

Also gone was the drainage tube from his chest operation. But the chest was still heavily bandaged, and seeing the brace was rather disturbing. That thing looked like a torture instrument from the medieval ages. Dr. Hill had told her it would be exchanged soon for another model that was especially fitted for Steve. She was just glad that they had taken off the neck brace. She didn't want to think about her friend not even being able to move his head.

Cath looked down along Steve's body that was still just covered with a light sheet over his midsection. She was glad to see the catheter gone and wondered if that meant any improvement of functions below the injury. But she was sure Dr. Hill would have mentioned that.

She hoped with all her heart that Steve would not end up paralyzed for life. She knew that he would adapt to that, just like he adapted to every other thing that had happened in his life, but it would be devastating to see this man confined to a wheelchair. Seeing him having to change his whole life.

Of course she knew it could happen to anyone, at any time, but Cath had a hard time thinking about it happening to Steve. There was no doubt in her mind that her feelings for him would not be changed by his altered abilities; she would still love him the same. If he let her. She wasn't sure if Steve wouldn't try to push her away, defending his action by saying it was for her own good.

But she would show him that he couldn't get rid of her that easily. He was stuck with her whether he wanted to be or not.

Catherine looked at Steve's face when he softly groaned. She saw with worry a sheen of sweat on his forehead. She gently touch his cheek and was surprised by the heat radiating off him.

Cath was just about to press the call button when a nurse came in to check on her friend.

"Catherine, hello," Jamari greeted her.

"I think he's in pain, and he feels really warm to the touch."

"Yeah, his vitals show that, too," she answered and motioned to the monitors behind the head of Steve's bed. "His temp has risen to 101.9 in the last hour. That isn't good. Dr. Hill is already on his way. Hopefully this is not an infection, his body is still weak after the blood loss, trauma and surgery."

Catherine watched Jamari tending to Steve and remembered Dr. Young's words, that any infection would be life threatening for Steve. It was one of their major concerns. Cath thought that after five days he had taken that hurdle, but obviously she had been wrong.

H50 - H50 - H50


	3. Crossroads

**Thank you all for reading. A huge thank you to everyone who took the time to write a review. Thank you! It really motivates me to post this on a regular basis. As I have told some in my replies this is my first story where I post without having the next chapter written. Normally my stories are done or almost finished before I even start posting. Not so this time. Chapter 4 is not written yet. So, if you want to get any input in, be my guest, write a review. It is the best motivation to get the next chapter on time. ;-)**

**And again you all have to thank Cokie for her amazingly speedy beta work. You know, it's not like she's sitting at home waiting for a chapter to come her way to do her magic on. She has lots of other things to do, too. Not to mention stories of her own in the works. And despite all the stuff going on in both of our lives, she still finds the time to be the best partner in crime you could imagine. So, thank you, my friend. **

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep  
Chapter 03 - Crossroads**

"Are the test results back?" was Dr. Hill's first question when he entered the room.

"No, not yet," Jamari answered as she exchanged another bag of saline.

"Dr. Hill, what is going on?" Catherine asked in concern.

"Could be stress related, a simple UTI or something more serious, but whatever it is we need to get his temperature down quickly," Dr. Hill said and tended to his patient. "Catherine, you should wait outside," Hill said as he gently peeled off the layers of gauze covering Steve's chest.

This was the first time Catherine had been in the room when Steve's surgical wound was uncovered and she stared at it in shock while Dr. Hill examined last night's CT scan.

"What are you looking for?" Catherine wanted to know.

"Anything we might have missed in the wound," Hill answered absentmindedly. "We kept a close watch on his spinal injury, but sometimes the swelling can obscure other problems."

"Like what?"

"Particles of clothes, bullet fragments, dirt or any foreign object really."

Catherine had not received as intense medical training as Steve, but she knew that a gunshot wound always harbored the risk of causing infection. A bullet travelling at high speed through a human body in itself was bad enough, but it also carried all kinds of germs with it. Not to mention that most people get shot while wearing clothes, which causes fabric particles to enter the wound. Most bullets fragment on impact and rip a body apart; missing some of those fragments can also cause serious infection. The list was practically endless.

"Is there anything to see?" Cath asked now even more concerned.

"I can't see anything, but that doesn't mean there is nothing there," Hill answered. "That the fever came on so suddenly is worrisome, but also a positive sign. An infection from something in the wound would have made itself known days ago. Besides, he is already on an antibiotic mix, so he shouldn't get an infection."

"Is the wound infected?" Catherine asked and motioned to the slightly red wound on the side of Steve's chest.

"No, it looks really good. Don't mistake this redness with an inflammation, this looks really very good," Dr. Hill assured her while taking another close look at the wound.

Their conversation was interrupted by Steve groaning. "Commander. Steve, can you hear me?"

They watched him turn his head toward the voice. Steve obviously struggled to open his eyes, and they could see that he grimaced in pain. "Ugh, hurts to breathe," Steve mumbled.

"I know. I'm sorry, that's just from undressing the wound. You'll feel better in a minute," Hill explained. "Do you feel any other pain?"

"No. Just my chest," Steve answered and looked around. "What's going on?"

"We are worried because you have a low grade fever and we need to find the cause for it," Dr. Hill explained.

"I do? But I feel fine… well, you know what I mean," Steve said.

"This can very well just be related to the level of stress your body is going through right now."

"Level of stress?" Steve snorted. "I'm just lying around," Steve said and they could hear the frustration in his voice.

"You are in the ICU, that alone is a high stress environment for the body; you were shot and had major surgery; your breathing is compromised; the list goes on, Commander," Hill explained to Cath and Steve. "You are not just 'lying around' as you put it. Your body is fighting a major battle right now."

"If you say so," Steve commented.

"Dr. Hill, here are the results," a nurse coming into the room interrupted the conversation.

The surgeon took the print and studied it for a moment. "No infection whatsoever," he said with relief. "I think this elevated temperature is indeed a reaction to the circumstances. Some people react stronger than others to stress. This is no cause to worry if the temp goes down."

"Do you want us to do active cooling?" Jamari asked.

"No, that is too risky at this point. Just lower the room temperature a little."

"Risky? Why would it be risky to cool down Steve?" Catherine asked as she took her friend's hand.

"That is very complicated to explain," Dr. Hill said and contemplated how to tell them about the very complex complication patients with a T6 or above injury can suffer. "It is called autonomic dysreflexia. Even patients with completely severed spinal cords have intact peripheral nerves. Those nerves can transport signals up to the brain." Hill looked at Rollins and McGarrett and saw that they still understood what he was telling them, so he continued. "When those signals reach the brain, it reacts appropriately, but the signals it sends back can't reach their target because of the severed spinal cord. You can picture it like a pile-up on the highway, but in this case the crash caused by it creates an acute, uncontrolled hypertension. Which is life threatening."

"What kind of signals travel up?" Cath wanted to know.

"Like pain from medical procedures, or from a sunburn on his legs, or like in most cases, the signal of a full bladder, or even sexual arousal or intercourse."

"Are you serious?" Steve asked.

"Yes, very serious. But, please remember, your spinal cord is not severed. Signals are still going through on some level. You might not be at risk, but we need to watch out for it due to your level of injury."

"Great," Steve grumbled. "So, no cooling on my legs to get the temp down?"

"No. We will lower the room temperature, but since there is no infection I'm sure your temp will go down on its own soon," Dr. Hill said and was glad that they didn't have to face another crisis.

H50 - H50 - H50

Steve watched the three people entering his room with trepidation. One of them carried a brace, not unlike the one he was wearing at the moment.

When Catherine had left about an hour ago Jamari had told him that he would be fitted with the new brace later in the evening. Seemed that now would be the time.

"Commander, good to see you again. Dr. Hill said it would be OK for you to have a little 'action'," Ben said.

"Uh huh," Steve answered not sure if getting the new brace would hurt as much as taking the measurements the other day.

"These are my two colleagues, Jeff and Sally who will help me take off your old one and replace it with this one," Ben introduced the two nurses and held up the new brace.

"Hi," Steve greeted them.

"So, let me explain how we'll do this. First, we will take the old one off. You need to completely relax and let us do all the work."

Steve only looked at Ben and had to bite his tongue not to tell him he couldn't do shit anyway, even if he wanted to.

"When it is off, we will put a tee-shirt on you. The brace shouldn't be worn directly on your skin." Steve remembered overhearing Jamari ask Catherine to bring in some clothing for him but at the time he really hadn't thought why.

"They change the dressing on this a few times a day," Steve reminded Ben.

"That won't be a problem, see, the front part can be easily taken off," Ben showed him the removable front plate. "We had to modify the brace because of your GSW, we can't have the brace put pressure on it."

"OK," Steve nodded his understanding.

"Then we will put the new brace on, and you will be able to sit up for the first time. But for that, Dr. Hill and your physical therapist will be here," Ben further explained.

"Sounds good," Steve said, and really meant it. He couldn't wait to get out of the bed. Even if it was just to sit on the bed for a couple of minutes. Which he was sure would be all that was going to happen.

"Alright, then let's get the show on the road."

Steve didn't like that they lowered the bed, so that he was flat on his back. But he understood that it was important for him to lie still on his back as long as he didn't have the TSO on.

"Don't try to move, OK?"

"I can't move," Steve snapped at Ben, his eyes flashing his frustration.

"Sure you can. You can move your shoulders and your head. But don't do that right now, just lie still," Ben explained and completely ignored Steve's tone from before.

"OK."

Steve watched him open the snaps on the front part of the uncomfortable rigid brace he had been wearing since after the surgery. It felt really good to have it off his chest. Steve again thought how strange it was that he could kind of feel his lower body, but couldn't control any movement.

Sally took his legs out of the formed pillows and gently laid them back on the bed.

"We will log-roll you to the left to get the back plate out from under you. Do not try to help, OK?"

The three of them got into position and on three rolled Steve to the side. "Argh," Steve couldn't keep from groaning. The pain caused by the movement felt like someone stabbed him simultaneously in the back and chest. He closed his eyes when they rolled him back. "Don't… do… that… again," he panted out through gritted teeth.

"I know it hurts; I'm sorry," Ben told him. "Let's disconnect the IV so we can get the tee-shirt on," Ben commented to the others.

Steve watched Sally put his arms through the sleeves and raised his head to help her put the shirt over.

"Now what?" He asked them.

"Now we will raise you while Sally pulls the shirt down," Ben explained.

Steve knew that it would hurt again and tried to prepare himself, but the intense pain was still unexpected when they lifted his upper body off the mattress. Steve had no idea that doing nothing could be that painful.

"We'll give you a minute before we continue, OK?" Ben told him.

Steve only nodded and eyed the brace Ben held with suspicion. That thing needed to get behind his back, and that movement for sure would again hurt like a bitch.

"What are those things on it for?" Steve asked and nodded at the knob-kind points on the front and back of the brace.

"Oh, they are part of the plug-in system for the neck-brace."

"Neck-brace? I don't have-"

"No, not while in bed, but for some of the PT sessions you have to wear one. It can be attached to this part of the TSO and make it into a CTSO, keeping your spine completely in line," Ben explained. "Some of the exercises would otherwise be dangerous for you."

"No one said anything about a neck brace," Steve complained, glaring at the therapist.

"It's OK, don't worry. You will only need it maybe once a day. It will be fine."

Steve thought nothing would be fine about wearing a brace around his neck, and making him even more immobile than he already was. This sucked.

"Commander, you have to calm down. Come on, take a deep breath."

Steve hadn't been aware of how agitated he had become after learning the prospect of wearing a neck brace. That was a thought that scared him to no end. So far he had tried to keep his cool about not being able to move; he had kept his hopes up, and knew he would at least get his arms back at some point. But the thought of not being able to move his head and being completely vulnerable and immobile terrified him. And no matter how strong he was, or pretended to be, he couldn't keep his body from reacting to that fear.

"What is going on here? Steve, are you alright?" Jamari came into the room and bent over to speak to Steve who was still lying flat on his back.

"I… they said…" Steve couldn't quite form the words to tell her what was going on.

She took one look at her patient and could feel the stress rolling off him. "Will you all please leave us alone for a few minutes?" It was not a question but an order.

Steve closed his eyes against the tears threatening to spill out. He suddenly felt a hand on his forehead and opened his eyes to the smiling face of his nurse.

"Hey, it's OK. Don't be ashamed. I know all this must be a very frightening experience. We're here to help you. Steve, you're not alone, OK?"

" 'K," Steve said, knowing his breathing was way too fast. It still felt like his heart would jump out of his chest.

"Do you remember how you slowed your breathing down?" Jamari asked and again placed his hand on his now brace-free chest. "Feel how your chest is rising and falling way too fast?"

"Uh huh."

"Slow it down. You can do it… see, that's good," his nurse encouraged him.

"Ben said… he will… attach a neck brace…"

"No, Steve, they won't. I promise they won't. When you are stronger… in a few days they will make you stand up, and for that they might put a c-collar on. But that all depends on how strong you will be and how stable your fracture is by then," Jamari explained. "And it will only be for a short time. Don't worry about it; that is down the road for you. No one will restrict your head while you're here. I promise…. And I don't promise unless I can fulfill it."

"Sure?" he asked, still skeptical.

"Positive," she assured him.

"OK."

"Steve?"

"Yeah?" Steve looked at his nurse and wondered how she had managed to calm him down so effortlessly and how she made him feel so safe with her.

"With me you don't have to be strong. You can let go. Remember that, OK?"

"Yeah. Thank you."

"Good. Now, how about we get those three stooges back in here and let them finish their job?" She asked him smiling.

"Yeah, OK."

"I'll give you something to help you relax and lessen the pain a little, is that OK with you?"

"I don't need to be sedated," Steve told her.

"I wouldn't do that. This will just help you to relax a little. Take it, Steve."

He looked at Jamari and could see her compassion and real concern for him. How could he not agree with her suggestion? "OK, maybe just this once."

"Good choice. It won't knock you out," she told him as she injected the drug into his again connected IV. "By the way, nice shirt. Did your girlfriend pick that for you?"

Steve grinned and remembered how Danny had given him the tee shirt after he had 'fixed' his broken arm with some twigs and a roll of tape. The print was a little faded, but the duct tape was still prominent under the text "I'll get my toolkit".

It had been a joke between them ever since that Steve could fix most everything with a roll of duct tape. Well until now. It seemed he had reached the tape's limits.

"You like it?" Steve asked with a grin.

"Love it," Jamari told him with a warm smile. "So, how do you feel now?"

"Better, thank you."

"Do you want me to stick around while they finish?"

"No, I think I'll be alright," Steve told her and could already feel the drug doing its job. He already felt a little detached and knew he would be OK.

And he was. Putting on the new brace worked without a hitch. They again log-rolled him to get the back piece on and then connected the front part. His back was completely covered, but the front left parts of his chest exposed.

Steve had to admit that even though the brace was just as rigid as the old one and prevented any spinal movement, it was a lot more comfortable.

He looked at the clock hanging above the nurses' station that was in his view, and could see that it was already nine in the evening. It had been an exhausting day. First he had the elevated temperature, even though the doc had called it a low grade fever. But that went down rather quickly, then he had been fitted with the new brace and suffered his mini-breakdown.

So far, he also had to endure three catherizations, experiences he could very well do without. But it was still better than a permanent tube in there. He had had numerous tests done to measure his neurological classification. They had performed those every day so far, and the test always produced different results which meant that there was still hope for recovery.

He had eaten lunch and dinner, all in more or less liquid form. Steve had to admit breakfast had by far been the best. The 'cream' soup had been disgusting and dinner had only been slightly better.

Steve had to chuckle thinking about looking forward to another smoothie in the morning. _How sad was that?_ But he had to admit that he was beat; he would never have thought that lying in bed doing nothing could be so exhausting.

He was pretty sure that sleep would claim him soon, and his hope was to wake up to even more progress. So far he could move the fingers of his right hand, maybe tomorrow the left one would decide to join in on the fun. And maybe they would finally allow him to sit up.

H50 - H50 - H50

* * *

**So, looks like Steve's getting better. But knowing Steve that could get him into trouble. ;-)**


	4. Changes

_**I'm really sorry that I couldn't reply to all who wrote a review this week. But please believe me, I greatly appreciate every single one of you. Thank you so much for all your thoughts, ideas and comments. Also thanks for the alerts and favorites.**_

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep  
Chapter 04 - Changes**

**Queens Medical Center - ICU**

"I said I wasn't hungry," Steve angrily told the nurse's aide who was assigned to his care. If his stellar glare could kill, she would have been toast.

"Why do we have to go through this every time it's time for any of your meals?" she argued back. Everyone would be able to tell by her tone that she was fed up with Steve's attitude. He was one of three people she was charged with feeding and he was the only one who fought her over it. All she had done was enter the room and set the tray on the bed table. When she had uncovered the food and reached for his napkin, he immediately began snapping at her.

Makayla had wanted to be a nurse all her life and this job was paying her way through college. But with patients like this one, she was beginning to doubt her ability to make it through her training.

"We wouldn't go through it if you wouldn't try to shove food down my throat every few hours," Steve said and continued his glare. "I said I wasn't hungry, therefore I don't need your help."

"Fine," Makayla retorted, tossing the opened napkin onto his lap. "You know what, if you don't want my help, fine, you can feed yourself. How is that?" She put her fists on her hips and glared right back. When he didn't respond, she pushed the tray of food in front of Steve and marched out of the room without a backward glance.

Steve stared at her, relieved that she left. Although on second thought, he wasn't sure if he should see this as a victory or simply as being a dumb ass. Looking at the tray he was beginning to lean towards the latter. He grunted in frustration and turned his glare onto the food in front of him.

He had to admit it didn't look too bad at all, which would be the first time that it might even be edible. Too bad he couldn't eat it without help. To make matters worse, just at that time, his stomach decided to rumble as if it, too, was siding against him.

"Fuck," Steve cursed out loud.

"_**What**_ is going on here?" Catherine asked from the door. "Why did the aide just storm out of your room in tears?"

Steve looked up and tried to come up with an explanation that didn't make him look like a complete ass. He opened his mouth to reply, but then shut it when he realized he had no real explanation. Finally he settled on the words, "I'm sorry?"

"What happened?" Cath asked as she bent down to greet Steve with a kiss.

"I told her I wasn't hungry," he admitted to her in a low voice while staring at the tray.

He could hear her sigh and sheepishly grinned at her looking to see if she was mad.

This had been an ongoing argument between them for four days, ever since he had been allowed to eat real food, and he wasn't ready to start again. Catherine's argument was that it was completely OK to need help.

It was not. Not by a long shot.

It was freaking not OK to not even be able to eat. Or brush his teeth, or get dressed, or do anything other than lie in this fucking bed and not move.

"Steve," Cath began and reached for his hand, holding it in both of hers. "I can't even begin to imagine how you must feel, but you have to believe that you are getting better. You aren't going to need the help for much longer."

"Says who?"

"Well, your doctor for one. And I'm telling you that, too. You just have to hang in there a little longer. Let people help you. Let them help you get better."

"I hate being so helpless," Steve whispered. "Do you realize how degrading this is?"

"I know," Catherine softly answered, seeing the embarrassment in his eyes. "I can't imagine how you feel but I understand why you feel that way. Will you let me help you eat? Please?"

Steve looked at Catherine, and as much as he looked for it he couldn't see a shred of pity in her gaze. He was well aware that she wanted to 'help' him eat rather than 'feed him'. In his eyes there was a huge difference between the two. He nodded his acceptance at her. "I'll apologize to her later," he softly said.

No sooner had he spoken when Makayla came back and stood in the doorway. "Commander, I'm so sorry," she began. "That was very unprofessional of me," she said. "I apologize and I promise it won't happen again."

"Would you come in, please?" Steve asked with a sheepish grin.

She nodded and moved near the bed, smiling in relief that he wasn't mad at her.

"First off, it wasn't your fault," Steve assured her. "I was really being a… jerk. It has nothing to do with you, OK? I'm just… this is hard."

"I realize that," she told him. "I just wish you would talk to me. Tell me how you want me to help."

"I can do that," he told her, glancing at the disbelief on Catherine's face. "OK, I'll _**try**_ to do that. But whatever I do, don't let it get to you. It's not your fault."

"Got it," she said relief in her voice. "Now, can I do anything for you tonight?"

He looked at Catherine who smiled at him. Cath shook her head and smiled at Makayla. "He's all mine tonight," she told the girl with a wink.

Makayla grinned back and nodded. "Let me know if you need any help," she said over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.

"OK," Cath began and held the glass of water for him to take a few sips. "What do you want to start with? As usual the dessert?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Catherine," Steve said as she offered him the first spoon of chocolate pudding.

"You're welcome." Cath smiled at him. "Always."

H50 - H50 - H50

"Commander, how are you this morning?" Dr. Young greeted not only Steve but nodded at Catherine as well.

"OK I guess," Steve answered.

"Well, I have good news and maybe not so good news for you," Young began. "You are well enough to leave the ICU."

"That's great news," Catherine piped up. She was there early, having stopped to see Steve on her way to work.

"Yeah, it is. Actually we would have transferred Steve to another room two days ago, but there was no bed available," Young explained to Catherine. "Even though you don't need the ICU anymore, you are still in need of intensive care," he explained and focused back on his patient. "We have a special unit for spinal cord injuries since the patients need special care. But as I said we didn't have a bed available."

"And now you have?" Steve wanted to know.

"No, we don't. We could put you onto a regular ward, but I think that wouldn't be beneficiary to you."

"So then what? I'll stay here?"

"No, we think it is time for you to get more intensive physical therapy, now that you're stable and your GSW is well on the way of healing," Young started to explain his plan. "We secured a place for you at the rehab center at Tripler."

"Rehab Center? Isn't that a bit early? It hasn't been even two weeks since—"

"It's important to start with rehab as soon as possible, and Tripler is able to accommodate Steve's special needs in regard of his wound," Young replied to Catherine's question. "I think this is an excellent option; they have vast experience with gunshot wounds and they have a great rehab center. And since you are still in the Navy they have no problem taking you in," he told Steve.

"They agreed to this just like that?" Steve knew it was not that easy to get transferred to Tripler.

"Well, I guess your rank and being the head of Five-0 helped. I'm sure they wouldn't want the Governor on their case," Young told them with a smile. "Listen, Commander, this is a great opportunity for you, don't risk your full recovery because this might be a bit… well, not fishy, but not everyone would have gotten that place. Although I assure you, you are on the top of the list because of your injuries, not because of who you are. Just take it."

"OK," Steve agreed. "I just don't want any special treatment."

"Understood," Young said. "You will be airlifted later today."

"Airlifted?"

"We always try to avoid ground transport for people with spinal injuries."

"Thank you, Dr. Young, for what you have done for me."

"You're welcome. I hope you will make a full recovery, Commander. Good luck to you."

"Thank you."

Steve watched him leave and then turned to his girlfriend, "What do you think about this?"

"I trust Young, if he says Tripler is the best for you, I trust him on that," Catherine answered.

"No, that's not what I mean. Tripler is military, they have even more rules, and-"

"Since when do you worry about rules?"

"Since I'm helpless," Steve softly answered.

It took Steve by surprise when Cath suddenly took his head in between her hands and engaged in a passionate kiss. "You won't be helpless for long, besides we will stay with you all the way. Steve, no matter what, we will always be there for you. Your friends just as much as I will. No rules will keep us from you."

"OK," Steve said a bit breathless. He was torn between liking what Cath did to him and hating that he couldn't do a damn thing about it. He couldn't even lift his arms to touch her. And it disturbed him that his body reacted so strongly to her touch, but was unable to move. It was pure torture; but he had no idea how to tell her that without hurting her. So he kept quiet.

H50 - H50 - H50

_**Tripler Army Medical Center**_

_**SCI Unit, Room 605**_

„So, you're McGarrett, huh?"

Steve looked at the man in the bed standing across his own. "Yeah. And you are?" Steve asked after the nurses who had settled him in the bed left.

"I'm Mick. Mick Donally. I guess we'll be spending some time together," Mick told Steve.

Steve watched his new roommate getting out of his bed and into the wheelchair. He seemed to be pretty mobile, at least his transfer looked effortless. He wheeled over and stretched out his hand after stopping next to Steve.

"Sorry, but hands are not working," Steve said shrugging his shoulders and looked down at his still pretty much useless arm. "I can move my fingers, but can't lift the arm."

"Aww, Man, that sucks."

Steve actually had to smile at that. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Wha' happened to ya?"

"Cutting right to the chase, huh?" Steve grinned at Mick. He looked at the interesting mix of mocha skin, light brown hair and clear green eyes. It would be interesting to learn his background; Steve estimated to be of the same age as Mick. "I was shot."

"Fuck. On Duty?"

"No. Some kid high on speed put a bullet in me while I went for beer," Steve said matter of factly. "What about you?"

"I fucked up."

"What did you do?"

"I went out on my cross bike, like I had done thousands of times. Well, guess it was one too many. I was too fast, lost control and crashed into a tree," Mick told him. "Messed up a couple of vertebrae and my spinal cord was completely severed at L2."

"I'm sorry," Steve said.

"Nah, don't be. It was my own stupidity. Now I have to pay the price," Mick answered. "It's not the end of the world, you know. Could have been a lot worse. I'm still here."

"Yeah," Steve mumbled. At the moment he couldn't really see it like Mick. He might not show it but he did feel sorry for himself. And he couldn't imagine it being much worse than this.

"So, what about you. What's the damage?" Mick wanted to know.

"T6, but it's incomplete, in fact, the spinal cord is not injured in itself. It was just compromised by pressure," Steve explained and would have used air quotes for 'just' if he had the use of his hands. "But the result is pretty much the same… I can't move."

"Huh. That's fucked up. So, you were shot in the back?"

"No, in the chest from the side. Pretty much messed up my lung and the bullet cracked the vertebrae," Steve explained. "Lots of swelling, it has been two weeks and I still can't move. Have trouble breathing, too."

"And all that because you wanted a beer?"

"Yeah. I was on a beer run, but honestly, I can't even remember any of it," Steve told him. "They said I died at the scene."

"Well, you look pretty alive for a dead guy," Mick told him with a grin. "So, did they get that SOB?"

"Oh yeah, he was arrested two hours later."

"Doesn't really give you any satisfaction, does it?"

"No, not really. Doesn't make a big difference, to be honest. But at least he won't hurt anyone else."

"Yeah. So, what are your chances of recovery?" Mick wanted to know.

"Not good. They said I will get function above T6 back, but below… well, I think they don't have much hope."

"What about you? You think you will walk again?"

Steve thought about that question. In fact he had thought about that question a lot ever since he woke up. And if he was honest with himself, the answer was a no. He knew that was the wrong approach, and he normally was always positive, always believed in a good outcome.

Not so this time. He met Mick's gaze and realized this was the only person who had asked him what he thought. It was good to finally acknowledge his predicament with someone and it felt good to get that burden off his chest. "No. No I don't," Steve finally said.

H50 - H50 - H50


	5. Escape

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep**

**Chapter 05 - Escape**

"Hey."

Steve looked up when his friend called from the door. "Hey, Danny. Come in."

"Is this a bad time?"

"No," he told him and turned back to his therapist who was massaging his right arm to loosen the muscles. "Ben's almost done."

"Yeah, Detective, come in," Ben told Danny. He then turned back to Steve. "How does it feel now, Commander? Still the intense pain from earlier?"

"No, it's much better. Thanks."

"Good. I'll be by again in the afternoon, and then we will get you out of that bed. How does that sound?" Ben asked smiling.

"Great," Steve honestly told him. He couldn't wait to finally get out of the bed. So far he had only been allowed to sit up, but always had remained in the bed.

"OK, see you in a few hours," Ben said and turned to Danny. "Have a good day, Detective."

"Thanks. You, too."

Steve watched his physical therapist go, and absentmindedly flexed his right hand. His arms had been hurting since early morning. He had first woken up to intense pain in his legs and later his arms too. The nerve pain in his legs had been an almost constant companion the last couple of weeks, but the pain in his arms was new.

"Can you," Steve said and motioned with his arm to the cup on the tray. Even though he could move his arms, holding anything with his hands was out of the question for now. He was still too uncoordinated and lacked the strength. But he at least could move.

"Sure," Danny answered and held the straw for Steve to drink with. "Where's your roomie?"

Steve paused in his drink and replied, "Therapy pool. He works out as much as possible during the day."

"Ah, good for him. Want some more?" He asked after Steve drained the cup.

"No, thanks. I need to watch how much to take in," Steve explained his 'input-management'.

"Oh… OK," Danny said and set the cup back onto the tray and sat down in the chair next to Steve.

"Didn't you say you'd come by in the afternoon?" Steve asked. "Is everything OK? Did something happen?" He was suddenly concerned realizing that Danny was there earlier than normal.

"What? NO. No, Steve, everything's fine. Well… I do need to talk to you… and I…"

"Danny, what's wrong. Are you OK? Did something happen at work?"

"No, everything's fine. I'm good." Danny obviously didn't know how to begin. He jumped from the chair and began to pace in the room.

"What did you want to talk about?" Steve finally asked.

"Grace." Danny stopped in mid-pace at the end of the bed and turned to face Steve.

"Is she OK?" Steve couldn't help but look at his wall of get well wishes. The nurses had pinned all the cards on the wall; most of which came from Grace. Every day Danny delivered a new one; some of them bought in a store, but most of them were made by her. In three weeks he had gathered quite a collection.

"Grace is fine, don't worry. By the way, here is her card for today," Danny told him and handed him the latest card from his daughter.

It was a colorful card with lots of glitter on it. Steve was for sure a no glitter-kind-of-guy, but the card made him smile none-the-less. Steve held the card in his right hand and struggled to open it with his left.

"Want some help?"

"No, I can do it." Steve shook his head and doubled his effort to open the greeting card. After a moment he finally did it; the card opened and more glitter greeted him. The only words inside were 'Love you, Uncle Steve', penned in multicolor and big bold letters. It brought another smile to his face and he turned to his friend, "Tell her thank you from me, will ya?"

"About that…"

"About what?" Steve looked curiously at Danny who had once again dropped into the chair. He left the card in his lap and let his hands fall back on the bed. He lacked the strength to keep them up for any length of time.

"Gracie wants to come see you."

"No. Absolutely not."

"Listen to me, Steve. She misses you and asks about you every day."

"I understand, but No. I don't want to see her," Steve told him again.

"Steve, she writes you every day, my Monkey loves you. She really wants to see you," Danny tried again.

"This," he managed an uncontrolled movement of his right hand to encompass the bed, "is not about Grace. *I* don't want to see her," Steve slowly repeated.

"Come on, she really misses you. She just wants to…"

"You don't get it, do you?" Steve challenged his friend, his tone becoming harsher. "*This* isn't about Grace. I don't care what your daughter wants. This is about what I want. And I don't want her to see… I mean… I don't want to see her," Steve corrected his slip.

"She will be really disappointed-"

"Don't you dare," Steve interrupted with a hiss. He paused to take a deeper breath, glaring at Danny the entire time. "You have no right to try and make me feel guilty. This is my decision, and damn it, I will not feel guilty about it."

"Fine," Danny shot back, standing up again and throwing his hands in the air. "Yeah, I get it, it's your decision." He gripped the footboard of the bed tightly in both hands. "When will you decide to see her or any of your other friends again? Maybe when you get home? Think you can pencil us in?" Danny asked clearly upset with his partner's decision.

"I don't know," Steve shot back. "Hell, I don't even know if I'll ever get back home."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Danny threw his arms out to his sides while trying to understand.

"Nothing." Steve mumbled, staring at the bed.

"Don't give me that, Steve. Tell me what's bothering you. What did you mean?"

"I said _**nothing**_," Steve shouted, then spoke again in a deadly quiet voice. "Just leave me the hell alone. I'm sick and tired of all your 'everything-will-be-fine' platitudes. All your promises to stick with me no matter what. All your 'nothing will change' drivel," Steve candidly told his friend, his voice louder with each word. "Everything has changed!" He almost yelled.

Steve wasn't really sure where all his anger came from and why he had chosen Danny as his target, but it felt good to let it out. He let out a sigh and leaned back against his pillow. "Nothing is the same anymore. So stop pretending life's just as it always was."

"We are still the same," Danny calmly replied. "We are still your friends, nothing will ever change that, Steven."

"But I don't want that!" Steve again raised his voice. "Just leave me the fuck alone… all of you!"

"OK…," Danny nodded. "I guess you need some space. I'll leave and I won't come visit with Gracie, but… for the record…" he pointed first to Steve and then to his own chest, "this conversation is not over."

"Whatever," Steve grumbled and watched his friend leave.

Steve looked down at the colorful card, picked it up and threw it to the side as far as he could. It flew off the bed and left behind a rain of glitter that stuck to his hand, his arm and the brace that covered most of his chest. He sighed seeing the colorful mess on both himself and his bed. He knew that he brought this on himself, both the glitter _**and**_ the mess with his friends.

H50 - H50 - H50

Steve had spent the majority of the late morning and early afternoon thinking about the argument with Danny. Even after talking with Mick about it he was still mad at his best friend. _They just don't get it_, Steve thought. It was unusual behavior for him to just do what he wanted, not caring if others got hurt or not.

Mick had told him that was OK, even the psychologist who was assigned to him had told him it was normal and OK to be selfish. It was even an integral part of his recovery to learn to say no if he didn't feel ready for something even if it was a physical demand from his various therapists or any kind of demand from his friends.

Army Captain O'Neill had told him very clearly that it was important for him to do what he wanted. At least for the time being. His body would know what he was ready for. He said in normal life we behaved according to certain patterns, either learned from our parents, during education, training or because our society dictated them. But in a situation of great trauma and the need to adapt to a completely new situation, it was important to listen more to one's own body and mind than to any dictated behavioral patterns.

So, in a way Steve only did what his therapist wanted him to do. Steve snorted at the idea that he was a good patient and did as told. He was sure neither Danny nor any of his friends would see it that way.

"Hello, Commander."

"Hey, Ben," Steve greeted his physical therapist almost excitedly as he saw him standing in the door.

"So, are you ready to leave the bed?" The therapist asked with a wink.

"More than ready."

"Yeah, I believe that. Listen," Ben said as he put his utensils on the end of the bed. "Has Colonel Waters talked to you?"

"You mean about anything specific?" Steve asked and suspiciously eyed the stuff on his bed.

"About the healing process of your fracture. It is healing really well, and he allowed for more intense therapy," Ben explained. "You were lucky that the fracture had been stable from the beginning, I mean there were no bone fragments or anything misplaced. So, that is a huge advantage for you."

"Huh."

"Seriously, Commander. Your fracture is practically just a crack in the bone without any misplacement. Something like that is rare. That normally only happens when people fall on their sixes and the vertebrae gets a horizontal crack. That you got hit by a bullet and got away like that… you are lucky," Ben emphasized again.

Steve was not willing to agree with that. At the moment he didn't feel very lucky. He was in constant pain from the damaged nerves, no matter what drugs they gave him; he couldn't move his damn legs; his arms were pretty much useless; and his back was killing him. So, no, he didn't feel lucky at all. He felt rather pissed and angry at the moment. Angry at his friend, the situation in general and at himself for losing control and yelling at Danny.

To say it bluntly, he felt damn sorry for himself.

"No he hasn't told me, but I think he wants to come by later this evening," Steve told him, trying not think about what other bad news he will learn then.

"Ah, OK then. When did you last empty your bladder?"

"What?"

"You're on a schedule, and that should not be interrupted. I'm sure you were told how important the right management is?"

"Yeah, more than once," Steve grumbled his reply. He hated that fact the most. That he had to watch what he drank, and when it was time to empty his bladder. All those things 'normal' people never even thought about. You drink what you want and go to the restroom when you have to. Now everything was different. Every five hours someone came and shoved a tube into him, so he could relieve himself. He was supposed to do that himself as soon as he could coordinate his hands a little better.

Steve refused to think about other bodily functions he had to keep on a schedule.

"So, when was it?"

"Uh, an hour ago," Steve answered.

"Oh, that's good, then we have plenty of time," Ben said and took a blue canvas from the bed and unfolded it. "This is the seat I will put under you. With it I will lift you out of bed with a lifter."

"Lifter?"

"Yeah. I'll get it in a minute. In a few days or maybe a week you might be able to transfer to the chair without it. But for now it will be easier and not so hard on your back," Ben explained.

"What is the brace for?" Steve asked about the hated c-collar.

"That is just a precaution. It's your first time, and it is hospital policy to put the neck brace on with your type of injury when getting in the wheelchair. Trust me, Steve you will be grateful for it."

"I doubt that," Steve mumbled.

Five minutes later Steve lay on the canvas and sported a neck brace that was connected to the TSO he wore. It was uncomfortable and hindered all movement. It made him feel very constricted and trapped.

At least he was almost sitting up and could see what was going on, so he looked with a little trepidation at the equipment Ben rolled in from outside the room. It was the lifter Ben had talked about.

"OK, I'll put these hooks in and then we're ready to go," Ben explained as he hooked the canvas into the lifter's cables attached to the arm that would lift Steve off the bed. "Let me know if anything I do hurts, OK?"

"Yeah."

Steve felt himself being lifted into a sitting position and then moved off the bed towards the wheelchair. He was now suspended above the bed and the equipment slowly moved him into position to drop him into the chair.

A nurse had brought the power chair a couple of hours ago and Steve had studied the thing; not sure if he could adapt to it being a permanent fixture in his future. That was another thing he chose _**not**_ to think about.

Ben slowly sat him down into the chair and disconnected the lifter. "I'll leave the canvas for now since you won't be in the chair for that long today," Ben explained and helped Steve get more comfortable in the chair. "How's the pain?"

"OK," Steve answered. It hurt to sit, and the movement had also hurt, but he knew that nothing could be done about it.

Steve watched Ben position his feet on the footrest and strap the seatbelt around his chest so he wouldn't fall forward. He had gained some muscle strength back, but it was very hard to sit unaided. His left arm rested in his lap and Ben took his right and placed it on the armrest. At the front of it a joystick was attached to it.

"You can use the stick to move the chair. But for now I just want you to get used to sitting up with your legs down. It's a position you haven't been in the last few weeks," Ben said as he crouched next to the chair. "Do you feel dizzy?"

"No, I feel good. My back hurts, but it's not too bad," Steve said and leaned his head against the headrest.

Ben adjusted it so Steve's head had even more support, not only from the brace but also from the headrest. "How's that? Are you comfortable? Any strain on the neck or shoulders?"

"No, it's good," Steve said and gently touched the joystick. But nothing happened. "Is this thing working?"

"I told you I want you to just sit in it for now," Ben chided Steve. "But to answer your question, yes it's working. You have to press the start button first. It's the square one above the joy stick."

Steve glanced down at the armrest, as good as he could with the immobilizing brace on, and touched the button. Two beeping sounds indicated that the power was on. So not to irritate Ben he pressed it again and the power was off again. "Just checking," Steve grinned at his therapist.

"Wow, look at that," Mick called from the door. "Man, I missed all the action," he said and wheeled next to Steve. "So, how fast is this thing?"

"I don't know, I'm not allowed to drive it," Steve answered.

"Jeez, you really can't wait to test it, can you?" Ben looked at Steve. "Alright, learn to use the joystick, drive around this room. But do not leave this room. Mick, call the nurse if Steve has any problems. OK?"

"Thanks," Steve answered with a grin. Thankfully they had a rather large room, so he could at least test the chair a little bit. Of course it would be better in the hallway.

"I will be back in about half an hour." With that Ben left the two men alone.

"Wow, that was easier than I thought," Steve said. "He doesn't really think I'll stay in the room, does he?" He looked at Mick.

"He'll probably watch the door, or something. Here let me help you with that," Mick said and put the attached Velcro around Steve's right wrist so that his arm wouldn't slip off the armrest. "So, where do you want to go?" Mick asked him with a conspiracy grin.

H50 - H50 - H50

"Hey, I'm not his keeper, OK! He was just driving up and down the room, then my wife called. I don't know where he went. I didn't see him leave!"

Catherine could hear the loud voice coming out of Steve and Mick's room even before she entered it.

"What's going on, where is Steve?" She asked as soon as she was in the room and saw the empty bed.

"We don't know," Ben said and glared at Mick.

"What do you mean 'you don't know'? Was he picked up to have more tests done?"

"No. He left and we can't find him," Ben explained.

"What? How did he leave?" Catherine asked in bewilderment. Last she checked her friend couldn't move, so how did he leave his hospital room.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," the therapist said and again glared at Mick.

"I told you I don't know where he went. Really, I don't."

"Mick," Cath began and crouched down in front of Steve's new friend. "Do you know anything about this?"

She watched him look down and it was obvious that he struggled with his decision. "He said he couldn't take this anymore," Mick finally said and motioned around the room to indicate what 'this' was.

That was not what she was hoping to hear, not after what Danny had told her about their conversation this morning. "Where could he go? I mean I assume he's in a wheelchair?" Cath asked and looked at Ben.

"Yeah. But he was not allowed to leave the room," he emphasized.

"You put Steve in a wheelchair and thought he'd stay put?" Catherine asked, shaking her head while doing so. "He can't go far with it, right? I mean he couldn't leave the hospital, or even the floor?"

"This is the SCI-ward, all doors are automatic doors and the elevator is speech activated, so he could leave the floor," Ben explained. "I'll alert the MPs," he said and left to call security.

"Mick, did Steve say where he wanted to go?"

"No. He just said he wanted… Cath, he puts on a brave face, but this is incredibly hard for him. And quite frankly Detective Williams' visit didn't help," Mick answered. "Steve told me about it and he was really upset about their 'discussion'."

"Danny feels pretty bad about it too. But that's not important right now, we need to find Steve. You really have no idea where he is?" Catherine asked again.

"Really, I don't," Mick truthfully answered, but then paused. "He talked about how much he misses the sun," he told Cath.

"The sun?" Cath looked at Mick and she suddenly knew where Steve would go. "Oh God, I hope he can't get up there," she said.

"Where?"

"The roof. When we visited Sgt. Lukela here in the hospital, Steve showed me a spot on the roof from where you could see the sunset." Catherine remembered how they had sneaked into the service elevator that had direct access to the roof. "I gotta go."

Catherine practically ran down the hallway and made her way into the smaller service hallway where the service elevator was located.

Her hope vanished when she saw that it was in service. She had hoped it was only usable with a key, but that was obviously not the case.

Catherine pushed the button and anxiously waited for the cab to arrive. She knew the old thing moved incredibly slow and she hoped she wouldn't be too late. Finally the cab arrived and she got in.

"Come on, come on," she mumbled as she repeatedly pressed the button for the top floor.

After what felt like forever the back door opened and she stepped out and was on the roof. Not seeing her friend, she turned around.

Her heart almost stopped at what she saw. At the very edge of the flat roof she saw Steve sitting in the wheelchair facing the empty space below.

H50 - H50 - H50

* * *

Sorry for the cliffhanger. Not. ;-)


	6. News

**Thanks to all my readers for your support. And again thanks to Cokie for taking a quick look at this chapter, despite the fact that nothing went according to plan over the long weekend. Well, after your track record it seems the norm, doesn't it? Glad all worked out in the end. ;-)**

* * *

**Enough to make the angels weep**

**Chapter 06 - News**

_**Tripler Army Medical Center - On the roof**_

"Hey," Cath softly called so not to startle Steve.

Steve saw his girlfriend out of the corner of his eyes. "Hey, Cath. Isn't it beautiful?"

"What is?" She asked as she slowly stepped closer.

"The sunset," Steve said and motioned to the setting sun on the horizon.

"Yeah, it is… Steve, what are you doing up here?"

"Watching the sunset." Steve said and had to grin at the sound of her sigh. He couldn't see her but knew she was rolling her eyes at him. He also knew he was going to be in trouble for coming up here. "Did they miss me?"

"Are you kidding me?" Cath called out. "They put the darn hospital on lock down because one of their patients has disappeared. The MPs are looking for you all over the place. How the heck did you manage to get up here anyway?"

"Couple hours ago they took me out of bed and sat me in this," Steve motioned to the electric chair. "I… I just had to get out, you know?"

"Why didn't you ask me? I would have helped."

"Is that how it will be from now on? I want to go somewhere and have to ask someone to help me?"

"No, of course not-"

"Do you hear yourself, Catherine? That is exactly how it will be," Steve told her calmly. "In case you haven't noticed, I can't fucking move on my own. I can't even-" Steve had to stop to breathe. "Fuck. I can't… even get… mad without… getting out of breath."

"Is that why you came up here? To end it?"

"What?!" Steve almost yelled at her. He turned the wheelchair to finally face her. Steve looked in total shock at his friend. "You thought I came here… to kill myself?"

"No! But… I mean-"

"Cath, you should know me better than that. I can't do much of anything right now, hell I can't even take a piss without someone shoving a tube up my dick every few hours," Steve told her bluntly. "Which, by the way, hurts every fucking time. I can't even breathe or cough right; I can barely lift my arms or sit unaided. So, yeah, this _**really**_ sucks. But killing myself after just three weeks in this situation? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"When I heard about your argument with Danny… and then saw you here at the edge of the roof and staring-"

"I'm sorry, Cath." Steve's anger deflated. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I really just needed to get out," he softly told her. It became clear to him how his 'escape' must have looked. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You should have told someone."

"They would have put me back in bed, not help get me up here on the roof," Steve told her laughing that suddenly turned into coughing. "Fuck that hurts," he said with a grimace.

"You OK?"

"Yeah, I'm overdue for my pain meds," Steve admitted. "Catherine?"

"Yes?"

"I will not off myself even if I have to be like this for more than a few months. OK?"

"OK," Catherine nodded and smiled at him. "Come on, let's get back and face the music. The Colonel is livid."

Steve only grinned but moved carefully back from the ledge, but not before taking another look at the sun that was now only a memory on the horizon.

H50 - H50 - H50

It took less time to get back onto the SCI-ward than it had taken Steve to leave it. One reason was surely Catherine who pressed the buttons on the elevator, a task Steve had greatly struggled with on his way up. The other reason was that he was slowly getting the hang of driving the power wheelchair.

When he had first wheeled out of his room and up the hallway he had bumped into the walls more than once. The joystick was very sensitive and with his still kind of uncoordinated hand it was very difficult to drive in a straight line.

"It's almost a wonder you even made it up to the roof; the way you're driving," Catherine told him when they reached the right floor.

"Very funny." But Steve had to admit she wasn't that far off. "It's hard to navigate this thing," Steve grumbled.

"Well, hopefully you won't have to master that skill," Cath told him.

"Yeah."

A moment later they reached Steve and Mick's room and were faced with a pretty angry looking Colonel, a concerned therapist and a grinning Mick.

"Commander, where have you been?" His doctor, Colonel Jules, said without any preamble.

"Just out, Sir."

"Even though Mr. Long is a civilian therapist, if he tells you to stay put, you will stay put. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," Steve knew he had no good excuse for leaving when he was told not to. So it was best to minimize the damage. "I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to cause any trouble." Steve watched Jules and it was clear that this compliance was not what he had expected. Steve worked hard to keep his grin in.

"Very well," the colonel said and turned to the others in the room. "I need to have a word with McGarrett, please leave us alone for a few minutes. You too, Mr. Donally."

"Sir?" Steve spoke up as they all left. "Can I get back in the bed first?" He asked. Sitting up was hurting by now and the neck brace was killing him. "And I really need to use the bathroom," Steve added as an afterthought.

"You feel the need to pee?" Jules asked.

"Uh, I think so," Steve told him wide eyed. This was the first time he felt anything. Actually it felt pretty urgent, too.

Ten minutes later two nurses had him settled back in bed and thankfully taken the neck brace off. One of them prepared to insert the hated catheter again.

"Commander, do you feel pressure?" Nurse Mika asked, holding the wrapped Foley in her hand.

"Uh, kind of. It kind of hurts," Steve told her about the very strange feeling in his lower belly.

"Tell you what… we'll try something different. Hold on for a minute," she told him.

Steve watched her leave and wondered what that was all about, but he got his answer when she came back with a urinal in her hand. "What the heck?" Steve mumbled.

Mika smiled at Steve and place the bottle between his legs. "Just relax," she told him and gently tapped on his lower belly over the position of his bladder.

Steve was just about to tell her how ridiculous that was when he saw that the urinal filled up. "What the…"

"I guess we won't need this anymore," Mika said with a smile and held the still wrapped catheter. "This is a great step, Commander. We were hoping you would get partial control back."

"I…" If Steve was honest, he didn't know what to say. He knew this would be a huge improvement of his life's quality if he could learn to relieve himself due to external stimulation, even if he would be wheelchair bound for the rest of his life. This meant a great deal of freedom.

Steve watched Mika getting her things and for the first time he felt like his recovery was moving forward.

"Colonel Jules will be back in a few minutes, he wanted us to call him as soon as we were done here," Nurse Mika informed him.

"OK. Mika? Thank you."

"You're welcome."

H50 - H50 - H50

"Commander, I just heard the news from Nurse Mika. That is just what we were waiting for," Colonel Jules told Steve after he sat next to his bed.

"Waiting for?"

"As you know we have performed daily tests. I know some of them are very uncomfortable, but believe me, they are important."

Steve only nodded, thinking about the tests he had to endure every day. Some of them were downright degrading, and he hated them with a passion. "I was hoping you were done with them?"

"We are. At least we won't do all of them daily any more," Jules assured him.

"Does that mean you have a better understanding now about my prognosis?" Steve asked. So far he had only learned that a definite prognosis for spinal injuries is almost impossible in the first few weeks. It's mostly educated guess work.

"Yeah, we do. Commander, have you ever heard about spinal shock?"

"Uh, yeah, during my medical training. It happens after a traumatic injury to the spinal cord?"

"Yes, spinal shock is a normal reaction of the body to an injury or trauma in the spinal cord. And after today's test we are sure you are suffering from it."

"Is that why you did the test twice?" Steve asked, shuddering thinking about the doctor probing inside his… _Don't go there again_, Steve mentally shook the image off.

"Yes, and the results are very encouraging."

"How so?"

"The average recovery time from spinal shock is four to six weeks; with some people needing a few more months to recover. We already see some significant improvement in the ability of your nerves to transmit signals."

Steve only snorted at that; he didn't see improvement, and for sure not anything that was significant. "Yeah, right."

"Trust me when I tell you there is improvement. Now, unfortunately some people never fully recover. It is in your favour that you are very fit and healthy otherwise. But that is still no guarantee that you will make a full recovery," Jules continued. "Commander, I don't want you to think that your recovery is a done deal. It's not. Some of your nerves did die, and they will never function again. But, our latest tests show that your chances to walk again are much better than they were just a week ago. Everything else… only time will tell."

"So, what exactly are you saying?" Steve wasn't sure what to take from what he just learned.

"When you got shot your life changed forever, Commander. You will not get back to where you were before the shooting, but you have a chance to leave this wheelchair. I have taken a look at your medical file and I think the previous injuries you received in combat worsened the outcome of this trauma," the colonel explained.

"What do you mean? I didn't suffer any back injuries."

"No, I'm not talking about your back, I'm talking about your lung. You will only regain about 80 per cent of function back. That won't hinder you in any significant way in your daily life, don't worry about that."

"Eighty per cent?" Steve asked. He knew that would most likely mean he'd be out of the SEALs.

"Due to your combat injuries I will recommend a medical discharge, Commander."

"What?"

"That way you can keep your rank, benefits, you would be allowed to wear your uniform-"

"But I'd be out," Steve said. "Isn't it a bit early to think about that step?" Steve asked in hope.

"Commander, even if you will recover mobility again, you would not be allowed to skydive, or dive any deeper than 100 feet. You would be disqualified anyway. If I can get a medical discharge for you, that would be a pretty sweet deal," Jules told Steve. "We should start the process as early as possible."

"Why are you so sure about what I won't be able to do?"

"Because the limitations are obvious. Our tests have shown the dead nerves. They won't recover; you will keep limitations from that. And your lung also suffered great trauma, it will not fully recover. I'm sorry, Commander."

"There is a chance that I won't get function of my legs back?" Steve asked with a low voice.

"Those cases are very rare. Focus on the positive, Commander. That is why I told you all this so candidly. You have a very good chance to lead a pretty normal life. Just not that of a SEAL any more."

"What about Five-0? Will I be able to go out in the field again?" Steve wanted to know.

"Honestly? I don't know. We will have to wait a few more weeks to see how significant the nerve damage really was. It is there, but we can't say with complete accuracy how severe your limitations will be," Jules told him.

"Thank you for your honesty, Colonel. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't tell my friends any of this," Steve told his doctor.

"Why do you want to keep this from them?" Jules asked bewildered.

"I don't want to get their hopes up in case it doesn't work out. Please, don't tell them," Steve pleaded with Colonel Jules.

"OK, that is your call of course. But I wish you would reconsider that."

"I'll think about it."

"Good. Now, how is the pain level? Your therapist told me you suffered severe nerve pain in your legs and your arms this morning?"

"Yeah. The legs are constantly hurting, but the arms suddenly started this morning. At the moment it's OK."

"Nerve pain is also an indication for spinal shock. I know the pain can be intense, and there is not that much we can do about it, but it is a good sign," Jules assured him.

"Could easily live without it," Steve grumbled.

Steve watched his doctor leave and thought about what to tell Catherine what this conversation had been about.

H50 - H50 - H50

_So, why did Steve decide not to tell his friends? Are his worries that it won't work out unfounded? Should he tell them right away, or wait until he sees more signs of his recovery? Tell me your thoughts in a review. ;-)_


	7. Moving Forward

_**Again a huge thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Please remember, this is a work in progress, the next chapter is not written yet. So, all your ideas and thoughts can influence me in some way. Don't get me wrong, the outcome of this is already a done deal, but I do listen to what you have to say. So, please keep giving me your thoughts. I might not agree with all of them, but I'm always eager to learn different perspectives, and who knows, I might even sway away from my own opinion if you can make a good case. ;-)**_

_**Thanks again to Cokie for her quick work on this one. She only got it yesterday while on the road, and now it is ready for posting. I think Cokie deserves some cookies for that. ;-)**_

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep**

**Chapter 07 - Moving forward**

Steve knew that Cath would be back in the next few minutes, which didn't give him much time to come up with something to tell her. He didn't want to lie to her; that was out of the question, but he also knew that he wasn't yet ready to talk about his prognosis. But most importantly he didn't want to get their hopes up.

Steve knew deep down that they only had his best interests in mind; that they meant well. That they all loved him, but sometimes it was just overwhelming.

He was sure that his friends weren't aware of it, but their 'everything-will-work-out-attitude' wasn't helping him much. On the contrary, it put way-too-much pressure on him on top of what he was already dealing with. What if he couldn't meet their expectations of a full recovery?

He knew they were relentless in their pursuit of that goal. And Steve was grateful for that and for their support, but he also feared that they were hoping for more than he could give them.

He planned to give his all to get better, regardless of whether they pushed him or not. But sometimes he just didn't want to have to meet such high expectations. Sometimes he just wanted to wallow in misery, and he wanted to do it with them. He never felt like he could share his anger, his worry… _name it like it is_, his mind screamed at him. Afraid, yes, he was terrified. Scared shitless, actually. But he never felt he could tell that to any of his friends. They were so gung ho on him being strong and getting through this… he just felt he couldn't crush their hopes and their confidence that everything would turn out all right.

And that was killing him.

Steve looked up when Cath came back into the room, a questioning look on her face. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Steve answered. Looking at his girlfriend's worried face, seeing the love in her eyes, made it suddenly crystal clear what he had to do.

H50 - H50 - H50

_**Five-0 Headquarters - early evening**_

"Danny, what are you still doing here?" Chin asked his friend when he came back from the interviews he had conducted in Ewa Beach.

"I could ask you the same question."

"_**I**_ need to pick up my laptop; but _**you**_ told me two hours ago when I called you were just leaving. So, what gives?" Chin asked and sat down on the couch in Danny's office.

"You saw Steve yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, I went by the hospital in the morning. He seemed to be in good spirits," Chin said. "I think he and Mick are getting along really well."

"Yeah, I think they have a lot in common."

"Is your mood the last few days because of Mick?"

"Mood? What Mood? I'm not in a mood!"

"Danny! Cath asked me the other day, Kono saw it, hell, even Steve asked me yesterday if you're OK. And he's the one in the hospital," Chin told his friend. "So don't give me any crap, what's the matter?"

"Steve's shutting us all out," Danny slowly answered.

"No, Danny, he's not," Chin countered. "Brah, he's just dealing with a really tough situation as best he can. He might not share all his thoughts with you right now, but he's not shutting us, or you out. I think he just needs some time and space to digest all that is happening, you know?" Chin tried to reason in the name of his boss and close friend.

"Yeah, well, about that… I think I screwed that up… maybe," Danny confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that Gracie writes him cards every day?"

"Yeah, I've seen the wall," Chin said with a smile, remembering the card-decorated wall in Steve's hospital room.

"She also really wants to visit him-"

"Danny, no, I don't think that is a good idea right now," Chin interrupted. "Steve is in no frame of mind to have a kid as a visitor. Not even Grace."

"Why do you say that?" Danny persisted, still refusing to back down.

"You really don't know?"

"NO!" he shot back, his anger against his partner mounting again. "My monkey wants to see her favorite uncle. God only know why she loves that moron so much, but she wants to see him. Why should I deny her that?"

"In this case, you are the moron, Danny. This is as much about Grace as it is about Steve," Chin told his friend almost angrily. Sometimes the love for his daughter clouded Danny's judgment big time. "First off, Steve is seriously, I mean _**seriously**_ injured. He might not recover from it, and I think it should be his decision when or if to see someone. It's the only control he has over his life at the moment. Second, Grace is a clever kid, but she _**is**_ a child. Danny, there is a reason there is a no-kids-policy in the ICU. You know why that is?"

"No, but Steve's not in the ICU anymore," Danny answered, but it was clear that Chin had his attention.

"A child might not be able to handle such a tough situation. Hell, even we struggle with it. And have you ever thought about that seeing Steve like that, Grace might think if that could happen to her uncle, it can happen to her Danno too?"

"Uh…"

"But most importantly, Steve is not ready to handle Grace seeing him like that," Chin said. "He will want to see her, don't worry about that. Just not now. It is too early for that."

"I don't know what to tell Grace why she can't see Steve," Danny confessed.

"The truth, Danny. You tell her the truth. That her uncle is not ready to see her just yet. How about a phone call? I'm sure Steve would be willing to talk to her over the phone."

"I think I really screwed up, Chin. I accused Steve of being selfish, and shutting his friends out, and…"

"Hey, don't worry, Steve knows this is also hard on all of us. Go see him tomorrow, ask him about a phone call with Grace," Chin told him with a smile.

"You think he'd be willing to talk to me? I mean, I pretty much walked out on him… after he told me to leave him the hell alone," Danny told Chin.

"Danny, you're his best friend, of course he will be happy to see you."

"I hope so."

"Come on, let's get out of here. I'll buy you a beer and a steak, that'll cheer you up," Chin said as he stood up and headed to the door.

"You're buying?"

"Yeah, brah, I'm buying."

"Well, then lead the way, my friend" Danny said and followed Chin out.

H50 - H50 - H50

_**Tripler Army Medical Center - Steve's room**_

"He told you he'll recommend a medical discharge?"

"Yeah," Steve answered and glanced at his girlfriend who looked a bit shocked about what he had just told her. "I don't even know if that's possible."

"He said a previous combat injury prevents a recovery?"

"Yeah, something like that," Steve confirmed.

"I'm not an expert, but I think that would let you qualify," Cath said. "What else did he tell you?"

Steve looked at Cath and wasn't sure how to tell her the rest of it. "He said I won't fully recover, but that they can't say how much function I will get back."

"How can he say you won't fully recover? I don't understand. You said recovery time from spinal shock is mostly up to six weeks; why is he taking that back and saying you won't?"

Steve heard her refusal to believe him in the tone of her voice. And that was exactly why he hadn't wanted to have this conversation. "Because some nerves did die. They just can't say yet how much it will affect me," Steve said and grabbed Catherine's hand with an uncoordinated move and looked at her. "I didn't want to tell you this, any of you. Please don't tell the others. I don't want you to get your hopes up. I might not walk again, ever."

"Steve, don't say something like that-"

"It's a reality, Catherine," Steve softly interrupted. "I might need a wheelchair for the rest of my life. I believe him when he said I will regain full use of my upper body back, I already am stronger." To prove his point he squeezed her hand. "But I can't move my legs at all. I have a little sensory function in my right leg, I can feel when you touch me. But I can't feel anything in my left one. And I can barely sit upright, I don't have enough control over my abdominal muscles to do so, Catherine. Those are the facts," Steve added. "Please stop saying all will be fine. Maybe it will, but maybe not. Sometimes, I just…" Steve was aware that he had opened up more than he had intended. "I just want to be able to vent and not listen to all of you telling me everything will be good, you know?"

"I'm sorry I made you feel you couldn't share this with me, Steve," Catherine told him. "I will support you in any way you need me to. Just tell me _**what**_ you need. Please never hold back." Cath brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed his fingertips. "This is new territory for all of us."

"I know, and I'm not mad… well, I am mad at Danny," Steve admitted.

"Well, about that… he feels pretty awful, you know?"

"Is it really too much to ask to give me some time? I would love to see Grace… but not like this. I'm just asking for a couple of weeks, until I can use my arms and hands again. Danny totally blew up and accused me of not wanting to see my friends; that is so not true," Steve said and had to stop to catch his breath for the first time during the conversation.

"You OK?"

"Yeah. Just a lot of talking," Steve said after a moment.

"Listen, Steve. It will be your decision when to see Grace, or anyone else for that matter. Danny… well, to be honest, not just Danny, we all are pretty overwhelmed with the whole situation," Catherine told him. "Danny is aware that he overreacted."

"As he usually does," Steve said with a grin.

Catherine only smiled back at him. "I think you both overreacted. You threw him out, actually you told all of us to leave you the hell alone?!"

"He told you that, huh?" Steve asked sheepishly.

"Yes, he did."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I was just so mad at him, and…"

"It's OK, Steve. You don't have to explain, I understand," Catherine told him and stood up to give him a kiss. "You look really tired; I'll let you rest now, OK?"

"I am tired, but I'm glad we talked."

"Yeah, me too."

"Cath, I won't be here in the morning. I'll get PT in the pool."

"The pool? That's the first time, right?"

"Yeah, they said it would be less stress on my back to do it in the water. So…"

"I'm sure it will be great," Cath replied with a smile.

"We'll see," Steve answered, but also hoped it would be a good PT. So far, all his physical and respiratory therapy had been while he was in bed. But they told him his fractured vertebrae was healed enough for him to get more intense therapy. And to sit up in a wheelchair. It had hurt, but it felt really good to be able to be up instead of lying in bed all the time.

"I'll be by in the afternoon then," Cath told him.

They kissed good bye and Steve watched her leave. He wasn't even awake long enough to see his roomy come back.

H50 - H50 - H50

_**Tripler Army Medical Center - therapy pool**_

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Steve asked and looked at his friend who swam next to him.

"Swim like that. I look like a paddling dog, and you swim around here even without your arms or legs," Mick explained his question.

"First off, I'm not swimming, I'm just floating," Steve said, which earned him a snort from Mick. "And second, this is second nature for me. I don't need my arms or legs to stay afloat. You can do it too, it's all about breathing right," Steve explained with a grin.

"Yeah, right," his friend said and used a strong arm stroke to not get under the waterline again. Like he had done many times since he tried to float next to Steve. A task he was not very good at.

Steve looked first at Mick and grinned then at his therapist who, of course, was close by. "Hey, Tom, I'm right, right?"

"Well, it helps if you're not afraid of the water," Tom, the water therapist answered. "Some are not comfortable in the water at first. But most learn to love it, right, Mick?"

Another snort was the only answer. Which made Steve chuckle. Mick had told him that he spent a lot of time in the pool, but that he was not really good at swimming. Steve intended to teach him to swim when he was back on his feet.

Steve wasn't even aware that he had for the first time not used _**if**_ he was back on his feet, but _**when**_.

"OK, guys, I think that is enough for today. Let's get out," Tom said and gently steered Steve towards the pool's edge where the lift was stationed.

Steve watched Mick reach the edge, pull himself out of the water and move into his waiting wheelchair. Steve knew that Mick's injury was a lot lower than his own and that Mick had a lot more control over his body than Steve had. So, transferring out and back into his chair was relatively easy for him.

Steve had the added difficulty that he still had a healing fracture, and not the full use of his upper body back. So, he needed a lot more help to get out of the water. In fact he wouldn't get out of bed, or the water, or the wheelchair on his own. He was dependent on others to do that for him.

And in this case the lift would get him out the water and back into the wheelchair. Something that he felt was most humiliating.

After a few moments he was settled back in the chair and Tom fastened the safety belt, so that Steve wasn't in danger of falling forward. His trunk stability still needed a lot of work.

"I'll be right back guys," Tom said and jumped back into the water to get their training gear out. They had used different floating devices and weights to train with.

"Come on, let's hit the showers."

"You're a funny guy," Steve answered and shook his head at his friend who started to wheel away.

"Ah, man, sorry, I forgot," Mick said, turned and wheeled back to where Steve was parked.

Steve wasn't able to move a normal wheelchair. Yesterday the power chair was another matter, but this one required him to push himself. And that was not happening. Steve was able to move his arms down to the wheels, but he completely lacked the strength and coordination to move the chair under his own power.

Of course he had tried as soon as Tom had sat him into the chair on their way to the pool, but it had not only caused pain in his back, but he also hadn't been able to push the chair even an inch.

So he sat in the chair, with dripping wet shorts and a tee shirt that was mostly covered by the brace that he had been wearing even while in the water. Steve was glad that he would be allowed to be without the annoying brace for a few hours while in bed and awake, but he had to wear it during the night and during all types of activity.

His doctor had told him it would be about two more weeks until he wouldn't need it anymore.

"Hey, did you see that?" Steve suddenly asked Mick in a low voice while motioning to two people across the pool.

"See what?"

"Those two guys. What are they doing here?" Steve asked and watched the two men disappear in a utility room. "They don't work here."

"How would you know that?" Mick asked in interest. "You've never been here before."

"Have you seen them here before?" Not even waiting for the confirmation that he hadn't seen them, Steve continued. "They are both from radiology. I had so many MRIs up there, I would recognize those two in my sleep."

"So what? They're not allowed to come here?"

"Not like that. They're wearing boots in the pool area; that's not allowed. And they had a backpack with them, also not allowed."

"Man, you saw all that in the second we saw them?"

"Attention to detail," Steve mumbled while he kept his gaze on the door they had disappeared behind.

A moment later said door opened, and the two men came back out. Their backpack was now obviously filled. They looked around as if to make sure that they weren't seen. Apparently the two patients on the other side of the room were of no threat to them.

"Mick, we need to check out the room. Take a look around," Steve told his friend after the two suspects had left.

It was clear to Steve that they were up to something. What, he had no idea but he had every intention to find out.

H50 - H50 - H50

* * *

**_Oh dear, what are those guys up to? And what will Mick and Steve find out? Will they get in trouble?_**


	8. Baby Steps

_**Thank you, Cokie for your awesome job on this one. Sorry for the delay, guys, but I have been super busy the last two weeks. But the good news is, I'm back on schedule, so next chapter will be up next Monday.**_

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep**

**Chapter 08 - Baby Steps**

Steve was glad to be back in his room. He was exhausted after the water therapy, taking a shower and after tending to his body's needs. The shower was his first and had felt absolutely fantastic. It had been a great morning, but also a physically demanding one.

Steve watched Mick slide out of his wheelchair over to his bed and wished he could do the same. But he was again dependent on Ben and the lifter to get out of the chair into his bed. It was hard for Steve not to be able to do even the basic things by himself.

This morning he had been able to eat without any help. He hadn't been able to hold the mug with coffee, but he had managed to eat his scrambled eggs. Some of it had landed on his shirt and the floor, but he still counted the breakfast as a win.

Steve was a little amazed how much control he had achieved practically overnight over his right hand. It was just yesterday that Mick had to velcro his hand to the armrest or it would have slipped off; and today he was able to move his arm well enough to eat.

Of course it was only his right arm, his left was still pretty much useless, but Steve took every little progress as a small step closer to his goal which was doing all the little things one does without even thinking about it on his own. His first goal was to get as much independence back as possible.

He had talked to the psychologist who was assigned to his case, and agreed with him that he should set his final goal at the end of the line. First he should focus on the goals that were in his reach. Take one step at a time so to speak.

Steve laughed at the thought of taking any kind of steps. So far he couldn't move his legs, or even his toes, or anything below his waist. He was glad to have bladder and bowel control back; that had been a huge concern of his. People never think about such things as long as everything works as it should be, but tending to such basic needs when it doesn't work as it should… well, it is not only time consuming, but also affects one person's life in a huge way.

"Are you comfortable like this?" Ben asked after he put a roll under Steve's knees.

"Yeah, it's good. Can I take off the brace?"

"Yeah, I'll take it off in a minute. As long as you're in bed you don't have to wear it; only during the night or activity," Ben answered while he wheeled the lifter out of the way and parked Steve's wheelchair next to his bed.

After hearing that he was allowed to take it off he opened the Velcro straps. Steve breathed a sigh of relief when the brace fell loose.

"Colonel Waters said I only need this for another week or two," Steve said.

"Yeah, you're a fast healer, the fracture looked really good on your last x-ray," Ben said and gently pulled the back part of the brace out from behind Steve.

"He'll be out of here in no time," Mick called from across the room.

Steve only graced that assumption with a snort. "Yeah, right."

"Have some faith, man."

Steve shook his head at his new friend, but did so with a smile. "When's your wife coming?"

"Gentlemen, do you need anything before I leave?" Ben interrupted his patients' conversation.

"Thank you, Ben, but I'm good," Steve addressed his therapist.

"Peachy," came from Mick.

"Good. Get some rest, you both have therapy this afternoon. I'll be back for you, Steve."

"Yeah, thanks," Steve answered and watched Ben leave. "So, when is Jamie coming?"

Mick grinned when the door opened and his wife, Jamie came in. "I guess right about now."

"Hi, guys. Sorry, I'm a bit early, but I have an appointment later," Jamie said and first greeted Steve with a kiss on the cheek and then her husband with what one would not call a friendly, innocent kiss.

"Hey, audience in the room," Steve called over to the two.

"Am I interrupting?" Danny called from the door.

Steve looked up and thought for a moment how this room had suddenly turned into Grand Central Station. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to Danny right now; he wasn't sure if he was still mad at him or not. But right now he felt too exhausted to develop much of a glare, so he looked at his friend and motioned for him to come in. "No, Danny, come in."

"Yeah, come in, Danny. Jamie and I planned to have lunch in the cafeteria anyway," Mick told the visitor.

Jamie and Steve both turned to Mick with a questioning look. Until a minute ago he didn't even know that his wife would be coming for lunch. Steve knew Mick wanted to give him and Danny the chance to talk, and he wasn't sure if he should thank or curse him.

Steve watched Jamie help her husband into the wheelchair and a few moments later he was alone with Danny. He watched his friend standing at the end of the bed, seemingly somewhat lost.

"You wanna stand there all day?"

"What?" Danny asked and looked almost startled. "No, no, of course not."

"Well… then sit down," Steve said with amusement in his voice. He watched his partner grab a chair and sit down to the right of his bed, crossing his arms in front of hm.

"How are you doing?" Danny asked after he sat down.

"OK, I guess."

"You're not wearing the brace."

"No, I'm not." Steve had no intention of making it easy for Danny. After all, he came here, Steve didn't feel like it was his job to entertain him.

"Steve… I'm sorry. For yesterday. For what I said," Danny awkwardly started the conversation.

"Uh huh."

"You're not gonna make this easy for me, huh?"

"Nope," Steve told him. He looked expectantly at his friend.

"OK," Danny began, uncrossing his arms so that they could make his point for him. "I guess you have every right to be angry with me. I get that. I was out of line demanding for you to see Grace. It should be your decision… and I'm sorry I made you feel guilty. That was not my intention. And you shouldn't feel guilty, Steve." He finally lost steam and stopped to take a breath.

"Danny!"

"What?" Danny asked in surprise after Steve interrupted.

"I'm sorry I threw you out. I didn't mean that," Steve confessed. "I was just angry… and frustrated… with everything… and I took it out on you… I'm sorry."

"No, no, no, I'm the one who should apologize. You only said what I should have thought about," Danny further explained with further hand movements. "Listen, Steve. It was wrong of me to force you to see Grace, but I only did that because I was scared you would shut us all out. But… after talking to Chin, I realized that you're not doing that."

Steve nodded and hesitated before admitting, "I would love to see Grace, just not right now, Danny. Please just give me a little time."

Danny finally smiled. "You can have all the time you need. When you're ready, you just tell me and Grace will be here."

"Thank you."

"So, we're good?" Danny asked.

"Yeah." Steve looked at his friend, and could see that their fight had really bothered him. Danny looked like he hadn't slept at all.

"Would it be OK if Grace called you? Or maybe you could call her?"

Steve thought about it for a moment before he answered. "How much does she know about my injury?"

"I told her that you had been shot and hurt your spine. That you can't move much at the moment but that you're getting better. I told her you were not feeling good enough for visitors," Danny answered. "I think she understands that better than I did."

"Can I call her when she's with you?"

"Of course. She will be really happy to talk to you. Thank you, Steve."

"OK. You have her tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Good, then I'll call you in the evening?" Steve asked and was glad that Danny agreed to be present during the call.

"Sure," Danny answered smiling. "That would make her happy. Steve, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Steve answered and wondered why he even had to ask.

"What did you mean when you said 'you don't even know if you will come home' ?"

Steve contemplated what to tell his friend. It was obvious that Danny hadn't thought about the consequences of Steve's injuries. "Danny," Steve slowly began. "I might not recover enough to live independently. And my house is not suitable for a seriously handicapped person."

Danny jumped to his feet and began to pace. "What are you talking about? Of course you will recover-"

"Danny! We don't know that. If I stay like this, I won't be able to live alone. And for sure not in my house."

"You're not alone, and your house can be remodeled," Danny quickly shot back.

"First of all, I wouldn't burden Catherine with…" Steve motioned to his body, "this. And second, it would be better to sell the house and move in some kind of… facility, or home, or whatever."

Danny stopped and gripped the footboard of the bed. "You're nuts, you know that!? As if Cath would ever leave you. So you better forget about that right away. And why would you want to sell the house?" He asked and took a deep breath. "I think you shouldn't think along those lines, Steven. You _**will**_ get better. And you _**will**_ get home. And if, God forbid, you will need help, you have friends and family who will be there for you. Who will make sure that you will get the best care possible and that you will live as much of an independent life as possible. You got that?" His pointer finger punctuated the air between them.

"Yeah. Yeah, got it," Steve softly said. "Thanks, Danny."

"Moron," Danny grumbled.

Steve actually had to laugh at that, it seemed that they really were OK.

H50 - H50 - H50

_**Tripler Army Medical Center - Rehab Center**_

Ben had explained how it worked, but Steve still eyed the harness with suspicion. At the moment he was lying on the soft mat on the floor, and Ben was preparing him for his first real PT session.

"Steve, I'll start with your legs. Just relax," Ben said as he gently lifted Steve's right leg to put it through the harness.

"Argh," Steve couldn't keep the grunt of pain in when his leg was lifted. He had experienced nerve pain for a few weeks now and he was still on pain management for it, but moving his legs really hurt. At least moving the right one did; his left one was pretty much without any feeling whatsoever.

It felt extremely strange to feel such pain when he still couldn't move his lower body at all. When the harness was on he would be lifted up to a standing position and with the help of a machine he would be walking.

It was supposed to activate his muscles and hopefully animate the nerves to 'remember' the movements. It was supposed to help him gain motor function back.

"You think this will work?" Steve asked his therapist.

"I think it will," his therapist answered. "If nothing else, it helps getting your circulation going." "It's important to stay as active as possible. By the way, how was your water therapy this morning?" Ben asked as he fastened the harness.

"Interesting," Steve said and couldn't keep the grunt of pain in when Ben helped him sit up. "But it was great to be back in the water."

"So, you enjoyed it?"

"Yeah, I did," Steve answered and worked hard to keep his balance. It was almost impossible for him to maintain the sitting position; he simply lacked the control over his abdominal muscles.

"Hey, you're doing good, Steve. You're sitting on your own. Great job," Ben praised him.

"Ugh," Steve panted out and fell backwards. At least he would have if Ben hadn't been there to stabilize him.

"I will hook you in, and then lift you up to a standing position. Let me know if any of it hurts, OK?"

"Yeah, OK." Steve watched his therapist connect the two hooks hanging from the ceiling to the harness.

Steve could hear the sound of the winch that pulled him up as he felt being lifted off the mat. A moment later he was standing… for the first time in a little over three weeks. Steve felt a little dizzy but that passed rather quickly.

It felt really good to be back on eye level with other people, even if it wasn't on his own legs yet.

"How does it feel?" Ben asked as he stood before Steve and corrected his stance.

Steve couldn't keep the grin off his face. "Great!"

Ben smiled and gently moved his precious cargo via remote to the machine with which Steve would train today.

Steve looked at the special treadmill with the holding mechanism. He had seen those when he had been in rehab for an injury he had received in combat a few years ago. But he had never thought that one day he would be using it.

"I'll lower you down a little more so that more weight is on your legs. Let me know if there is any pain in your back," Ben said and again pressed buttons on his remote.

Steve was now connected to the machine that would move his legs. He couldn't feel his legs at all, but suddenly there was a pressure and a feeling of weight in his back. It didn't really hurt, but it was kind of uncomfortable.

"You OK?"

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt, it just feels strange," Steve answered.

"Your spine has to carry part of your weight at the moment. More than while you're sitting. Your doc said you're stable enough to do this, Steve. But if it gets too uncomfortable just tell me and we'll stop."

"No, no, it's OK, really, it doesn't hurt. It's fine," Steve assured his therapist.

"OK, good," Ben said and looked closely at Steve as if to see if he told the truth or not. "I will start the machine now. We'll start real slow, OK?"

"Yeah, OK," Steve said and grabbed the bar next to him with his right hand. His left hand wouldn't cooperate so he just left it hanging by his side.

It was an even stranger feeling seeing his legs move without really feeling it. Steve concentrated on his right leg because he kind of felt it moving. It felt incredibly good to actually walk. Of course, Steve knew that he wasn't the one doing the walking, but still, it was a great feeling. Just being upright was great, but now moving was even better.

He had loved being in the water this morning, but now he was really thrilled. If asked, Steve would have a hard time explaining how wonderful it felt not to be confined to the bed all the time. It started when they had put him in a wheelchair the first time. Well, that most likely had a lot to do with his escape the first chance he got.

But the feeling of freedom had continued with being allowed to have therapy in the pool, but now walking really took the cake. He didn't think his day could get any better than this.

"How does it feel, Steve?"

"Great! Absolutely great," Steve told his therapist with a huge grin. He really couldn't keep his happiness inside.

"You're doing really good," Ben said and watched the monitor attached to the machine. "Steve, try to follow the movement of your right leg. The computer recognizes any movement that originates from the patient, and here is a definite output from you," Ben explained while pointing at the screen. "Try to concentrate on walking."

Steve had felt his leg's movement, but he didn't think he actually moved it. He tried to mimic walking and saw his therapist smile while watching the monitor. "Anything?"

"There are muscle contractions and movement. Can you feel the movement, Steve?"

"Kind of," Steve answered and looked down at his walking legs. "But nothing on the left."

"Don't worry about that. Sometimes one side needs longer or more help than the other. Focus on the right for now," Ben said and decreased the speed a little bit. "How does it feel now?"

Steve thought for a moment before he answered. "Like I'm doing more of the walking."

"You are. This is really terrific. I've never had such success with the first session. Steve, this is really, really promising," Ben told him enthusiastically.

Steve continued for another five minutes, his smile showing his enthusiasm until he began to get a little out of breath and his back began to hurt. "Can I stop now?" Steve asked, glancing at the monitor and Ben.

"Of course, we would have stopped in another minute anyway."

"Really? Then let's do that one more minute." Steve decided, stopping Ben from switching off the machine.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he nodded, not willing to quit before time was up. Although, five minutes later Steve was actually glad to sit back in his wheelchair. It had been exhausting to train on the 'walker', but really satisfying.

"Ben, can I ask you something?" Steve remembered that he needed some answers from his therapist.

"Of course. Shoot," Ben said as he wheeled Steve out of rehab and back to his room.

"You're a civilian, right?"

"Yeah, I've been working here as a civilian contractor. Why?"

"Do you have any privileges the military personnel here don't?"

"Like what?" Ben asked in obvious confusion.

"Oh… like using the pool…"

Ben snorted at that. "No, man. You better don't get caught in the pool area if you're not a patient doing therapy, or a 'water guy'," Ben said and Steve could practically see him rolling his eyes. "Some of them think they are the 'real' therapists. If you know what I mean."

Steve couldn't say that about his 'water guy', Tom had been easy going and down to earth. Mick had told him that Tom was a cool guy. So, if Ben had a different experience Steve still had to meet such a guy. "So, it would not be a good idea for any personnel to get caught at the pool?"

"Definitely a no go," Ben emphasized. "In fact, the card keys we carry are programmed so that you only have access to your own work area. I couldn't get to the pool if I wanted to."

"Huh."

"Why do you ask?" Ben wanted to know.

"Ah, no reason. Just curious, you know?" Steve innocently answered.

"Uh huh." Ben was ready to ask another question when they reached the room.

When they entered there was already someone waiting for them.

H50 - H50 - H50

* * *

_**Who has come to see Steve? Friend or foe? ;-)**_


	9. For The Sake Of Others

_**I am sorry that this is a little late. I might have missed the one or other reviewer last week, I'm truly sorry for that. Thank you all so much for reading. I greatly appreciate you taking the time to read and some of you even going a step further and letting me know your thoughts. Thank you!**_

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep**

**Chapter 09 - For the sake of others**

Steve had to smile upon seeing his visitor. "Lou, great to see you," Steve greeted his friend as Ben wheeled him into the room.

"Steve, hey," the big man greeted back.

"Lou, meet Mick Donally," Steve said and motioned to his new friend who wheeled into the room behind Steve and Ben. Mick had been to group therapy and was also just coming back.

"So, you're Grover. I've heard a lot about you," Mick said and shook hands with Captain Grover.

"Oh, yeah? Don't believe a word McGarrett told ya," Lou answered with a smile.

"Too late for that warning," Ben answered with a twinkle in his eye. Steve had told him about their rocky start, but that he was glad to call Grover a friend now.

"Steve, do you want to stay in the chair for the duration of your friend's visit?" Ben asked.

"No, I'd like to take the brace off," Steve answered. His back hurt and he was looking forward to lying back down. "Lou, have a seat, this will only take a minute."

It took almost ten minutes until Steve was again comfortable on his bed, with his legs elevated, the brace removed and ready to talk to his friend.

"OK, I'll leave you guys alone now," Ben said after he parked the wheelchair next to Steve's bed and secured the lifter in the corner of the room. "I'll be back in the morning. Remember, Mick you have some tests tomorrow. Steve, we will work on your balance. I'll pick you guys up at ten. See you then."

"He seems like a nice guy," Grover said after Ben had left.

"Yeah, he's pretty cool," Mick agreed. "Hey, you guys need some time alone?"

"No, actually I thought Lou might just be the guy we need," Steve said and looked meaningfully at Mick.

"What was that look just now?" Grover asked and looked at the two patients. "What are you guys up to?"

"Nothing. But we could use a favor, Lou," Steve answered.

"OK, sure. What do you need?"

"You sure this is a good idea?" Mick intervened.

"Yeah. We can trust Captain Grover," Steve assured his new friend. "Lou, can you run a background check for us… and keep it low key?"

"How low key?"

"Completely under wraps. No word to Catherine or Danny, or anyone else," Steve said and looked expectedly at the SWAT captain.

"Is this something I should worry about? You're not doing anything stupid, are you?"

"No. We're just trying to keep ourselves busy. You have any idea how boring it is to lie in bed most of the time?" Steve explained. "We just want to know who we're dealing with. Nothing wrong with that. I mean it's not illegal to run a background check."

"No, it certainly isn't. But I wonder why you want one on…," Grover stopped and looked down at the card Steve had given him. "Who the heck are Eric Lundergan and Johnny Sanchez?"

"That's what we would like to know," Steve patiently explained.

"You're not pulling my leg here, are you?" Grover asked and looked suspiciously at Steve and Mick.

"Would I do that?"

"Yeah, yeah, you would," Grover answered smiling. "Alright, I'll check them out. They are _**real**_ people, aren't they?"

"Yes, Lou, they are real people. They work in radiology, and…"

"And what? Steve? What did they do?"

Steve thought for a moment, looked at Mick and then made a decision. "Lou, you have to promise to keep this to yourself. We don't want to stir anything up if there isn't anything going on. They could lose their jobs if… this is a military hospital… they would be out in a heartbeat if any of this came out," Steve explained.

"Captain, we really just want to make sure they are who they say they are. We're not doing anything stupid," Mick chimed in.

"Yeah, right," Grover snorted under his breath.

"Will you help us?" Steve pleaded.

"Yes, of course I'll help you. But you have to promise me something."

"What's that?"

"If there is anything going on, and you get wind of it, you call me."

"Aww, I didn't know you cared so much," Steve teased him.

"I don't," Grover answered with a straight face. "This is pure self-preservation. Catherine would kill me if she knew anything about this. Or if anything would happen to you."

"Ah, I see," Steve said grinning at his friend.

"So, how are you doing?" Grover changed the subject.

"Not too bad I guess. I walked today. Well, kind of," Steve added.

"Kind of?"

"Yeah, I trained with a machine, and I could kind of move my right leg," Steve told about the experience from earlier.

"That's great, Steve."

"It won't be long and he'll walk out of here," Mick called out.

Steve only snorted at that. Despite that he had felt _**something**_ in his leg today, he had no delusions about his prospects of walking on his own again.

H50 - H50 - H50

_**Steve and Mick's room - early evening**_

"So, I heard Grover came to visit," Catherine said by way a greeting as she bent down for a kiss.

"Where did you hear that?" Steve wanted to know. Hoping that Grover didn't talk about their request, although he had no doubt he could trust Lou.

"I called him about a case where he had given SWAT support, and he said he was just leaving the hospital."

"What case? What happened?"

"Steve. You know we're not supposed to discuss cases," Catherine answered as she sat down on the chair next to his bed.

"Why the heck not?"

Steve never understood how the doctors and even his team could think it would keep him calmer _**not**_ talking about anything Five-0 related.

It seemed that Catherine didn't have an answer for that. "Well…"

"Exactly," Steve said with a triumphant grin and reached for her hand. "So, tell me what's going on at work."

He wasn't sure who was more surprised with the ease in which he managed to take her hand and squeeze it. His right side had really seemed to come back to life.

Steve smiled at Catherine as she looked at their joined hands. He wasn't a guy who often indulged in PDA, but since he was in the hospital, that had changed. Not only for the reason that he liked the physical assurance that he could actually feel the contact, but also it kept Catherine from touching him.

He knew how strange that was, but her touch sent his senses in overdrive and it wasn't always a pleasant sensation. It increased the feeling of being trapped in his body immensely.

"Where's Mick?" Catherine answered evasively.

"Having dinner with his wife in the cafeteria. Don't change the subject, Catherine."

"So, we have the room to ourselves?" Catherine stated the obvious.

Steve watched as she stood up from her chair and settled down on the side of his bed. He already hated how his body eagerly reacted to her being so close. Every fiber of his being longed to touch her, longed to fulfill what he had been thinking of when this nightmare had started. How they hadn't been with each other for almost a week when he had come home from his meeting with the Governor. And how he had looked forward to spending some quality time with his woman. Something they simply had not had any time for while they had been on the demanding case.

"Cath, I…," Steve started to say but stopped and closed his eyes when she gently touched the area where the bullet had entered. The surgeon had left him with only a very thin scar. One he was sure would fade almost completely over time, but the whole area was still slightly red and extremely sensitive to touch.

He almost gasped when her hand traveled further down. His eyes snapped open and Steve grabbed Catherine's hand before she could get too close to his very obvious arousal. "Please don't," he whispered.

"Steve, we certainly won't have sex here, but we can touch and kiss," Catherine told him. "And it is pretty obvious that you are more than willing," she added with a smile and looked at his treacherous body part.

"But I'm not," Steve assured her of what he wanted despite the signals his body was giving.

"You don't want me to touch you?" Catherine asked and he could hear the hurt in her voice.

It was the last thing he wanted; hurting his girlfriend. But better tell her now and end it than dragging out what would happen sooner or later anyway. "No, I don't."

"Oh," was Catherine's stunned reaction while pulling back her hand. "Do you… want me to leave?"

Steve looked at his longtime friend, someone he had come to love over the years. The only woman he ever truly loved. He simply couldn't ask her to stay with him when it was so obvious that he would never ever again be the Steve she fell in love with. He had to set her free. Free of staying with him out of a sense of obligation. He knew it would hurt her. Deeply. And he hoped she would still be his friend. Steve processed everything and made up his mind, then nodded. "I think you should leave."

"Leave?" Catherine asked confused. "Steve?"

"Yeah." Steve had trouble looking her in the eye and he didn't elaborate, but was sure she understood what he was trying to tell her. At least if her look was any indication.

"OK," she said and nodded her acceptance. "I'll leave… for tonight. Steve, don't think you'll get rid of any of us that easily."

"Wasn't easy," Steve mumbled under his breath.

Catherine stood up but not before she bent down and gently kissed her friend good bye. "I love you."

Steve watched her leave and only when she closed the door behind her did he answer in a choked voice. "Love you too."

H50 - H50 - H50

…_**later the same night**_

Steve wasn't sure if he was glad or just sad that Catherine had listened to him and left. And that's what he told Mick when he asked where Cath had gone to.

"Man, what would I give to be in your place, and you just blew her off like that," Mick said and shook his head at Steve.

"Oh yeah? I'd trade places with you right away. You at least know where you stand," Steve answered across the room.

"Yeah, because you're an idiot," Mick called out, wheeling his chair around to glare at his friend. "You know, I will never _**ever**_ walk again. I will never ever feel making love to my wife again," Mick said in anger. "_**You**_ can still _**feel**_ when your girlfriend touches you. You can have sex with her and actually feel her. You still have the chance to get out of that fucking chair."

"I hate her touching me right now. It's pure torture," Steve clarified in a low voice.

"What do you mean? She seems so gentle and nice," Mick said in confusion.

"She is," Steve quickly agreed and couldn't keep from smiling thinking about Catherine, but he sobered when he thought about what they were talking about. "It's killing me how my body reacts to her touch and I can't do a damn thing."

"Man, you are _**such**_ an idiot. You can make love to your girl the normal way."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Steve yelled out, and as an afterthought he continued. "And don't call her girl. She'd have a few choice words for you."

"Very funny," Mick said with a grin. But then explained what he meant. "Think about it… you can get aroused by thinking about her, you react to her before she even touches you. I can only have sex by direct stimulation. And I don't feel a damn thing while doing it. That is not making love, that is just the simple act of sex without the joy of it," Mick bitterly concluded.

"Oh."

"Yeah, OH. _**And**_ I will stay like this for the rest of my life, without any hope of change." He hit the handle of his chair with his fist with each word. "The. Rest. Of. My. Life. _**You**_ are already getting your motor functions back."

"No, I'm not," Steve immediately argued.

Mick shook his head at his new friend and slapped his leg. "When you sleep, your right leg moves. And a lot more than just from spasms," he explained his observation from the other night. "Your nerves are not cut, Steve, they just need some time. You have to fucking believe in that. So, don't tell me you want to trade places just because I have the full use of my arms and have come to terms with all this. Believe me, you don't want to be in my place."

Steve didn't really know what to say. He had thought giving Catherine a way out was the right thing to do. A selfish thing in some regard; sparing himself the torture of being loved by her. But after listening to Mick, he slowly came to the conclusion that he should maybe think beyond the things he might not be able to do in the future and focus on what he _**will **_be able to do. And one of those things he could do was love his girl in every sense of the way. Emotionally and physically.

He had to grin at the thought of referring to Cath as his girl. She would have his head for that. He also realized that he had been an idiot. Something he seemed to be a lot lately.

Steve knew what he had to do.

H50 - H50 - H50


	10. Secret Agent Men

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep**

**Chapter 10 - Secret Agent Men**

_**McGarrett Residence**_

Catherine turned off the engine of Steve's truck and just sat behind the wheel. Since Steve had been shot Cath had only driven his truck, it kind of made her feel closer to him. She knew how silly that was, it was not like Steve was dead and she needed something to hold on to. It just made her feel better, just like sleeping in his tee shirts did.

Catherine sighed loudly and tried to reflect on what had happened back at the hospital. _Your boyfriend threw you out_, Cath thought with a snort. Even though she had left without any kind of fight she was not willing to let this slide. But she had felt that Steve had not been in the frame of mind to talk about anything in a rational manner.

He practically exuded exhaustion. Not just the physical kind but more so the emotional one. She knew that Steve was mentally strong, but the situation was getting to him. That much was obvious. She had no doubt that he thought telling her to leave him was in her best interest, and she knew that he would come to his senses. Eventually.

She had to smile at the thought that he was probably thinking about her right now. About what he had said and done. She truly hoped he would talk to Mick about it. She felt like he was a person who could set her stubborn friend straight.

But even though she could understand Steve's reasoning, she was also angry at him at this moment. How dare he downplay her feelings for him? How dare he think she would leave him in a situation like this?

"Idiot," she muttered under her breath.

Catherine slid out of the truck and tiredly made her way over to the house. A house that had felt pretty empty the last few weeks. Sure, her friends from Five-0 had come over a few times, but without Steve it just wasn't the same.

She had learned to go through endless lonely nights during her time in the Navy, but now with Steve seriously injured in the hospital? The nights were much more lonely than ever before. She was missing him so much. Not just his gentle touch or their lovemaking. She just missed his whole being. She just missed him. Period.

Cath went into the house and straight into the kitchen. Work had kept them all pretty busy today and her last meal had been breakfast way before 'normal' people got up. So, despite all the stress and emotional turmoil she was hungry.

There was some leftover chicken in the fridge from last night, when Chin had come over and brought her dinner. She could go for some hot Orange-Chicken right now. She had to smile thinking that Steve wouldn't like her choice very much; he was not a friend of the hot stuff she loved so much. He liked it spicy, but he always said he liked to taste his meal, and not just burn it away.

She took a cold beer out of the fridge and sat down at the table waiting for the chicken to be heated up in the microwave. Cath's thoughts again wandered to her injured friend.

Of course, she had thought about what would happen if Steve did not get the use of his legs back. Despite her attitude toward Steve she was a realist and knew that possibility was very real. She knew in her heart that no matter what, her feelings for him wouldn't ever change. And if things didn't go as she hoped and he ended up in a wheelchair… well, they would adapt to that too.

She just couldn't understand why Steve thought she might be better off leaving him. Her morose thoughts were interrupted by the ding announcing her chicken was ready. Cath took her plate and went out to sit on the lanai. Since it had started to drizzle she sat under the roof, listening to the light rain. There really wasn't much to see, the sun had set a short while ago. The overcast made it a pretty dark night without any stars to light the darkness.

When the weather was like this, rainy with a fresh breeze, it didn't matter that one lived in sunny Hawaii. Their rainy nights looked just like it would on any other coast, warm climate or not. But it was a weather she really enjoyed; she loved the wind and even the drizzle. And tonight it even matched her mood.

After eating her chicken she just sat and gazed into the night. She let her mind drift until she realized she was about to nod off.

Gathering her things and getting upstairs only took a few minutes. Then she had to face the empty bed again. Like all the other nights, that was the hardest. She crawled into bed, hugging his pillow and thinking about the man she loved and missed dearly.

H50 - H50 - H50

Steve looked at his phone and wasn't sure he should call or not. It was almost three in the morning and Cath for sure was asleep. He didn't want to wake her, but also knew that he would not be able to sleep if he didn't talk to her. And if he didn't call now, he might even lose his nerve to call altogether.

He sighed again and then made the call. He listened to the phone ringing and was just about to end the call when he heard a mumbled " 'lo?"

"Catherine?"

"Steve, is that you?" He heard his girlfriend still half asleep.

"I'm sorry I woke you," Steve softly said.

"Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"I'm fine… I just needed to talk to you."

"Are you serious? Now? At… ten to three?" He heard rustling and then a sigh. "OK. I would guess this is about your stellar performance earlier?"

"Uh, yeah… I can understand that you're mad, Cath-"

"I'm not mad. I'm hurt," came the soft answer over the line.

"Which is even worse." Steve stopped speaking, unsure how to voice his regret. "Cath, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you," he spoke quietly over the phone. "I'm really sorry."

"You already said that."

"You are mad," Steve said and despite the situation, had to smile.

"Maybe a little," Cath admitted with a loud sigh. After acknowledging her anger, she was ready to talk. "Listen, Steve, I just don't get what you were thinking. Why would you do that?"

"I didn't want you to feel obligated to me," he admitted. "But it didn't take long to realize how stupid that was."

"Stupid?" Catherine asked in confusion.

"Yeah, stupid. I reduced our feelings to an obligation, to a duty," Steve paused to gather his thoughts. "If our roles were reversed, there would be no way in hell I would leave you. I would love you just the same… no matter what. And I wasn't allowing you the chance to have the same feelings. Catherine, I'm truly sorry for what I said," Steve told her.

Steve listened to the silence on the line and hoped he hadn't made it worse by calling at this late hour. But he couldn't fall asleep; first from the thoughts running through his head and then from the pain in his legs. His right thigh was killing him, and the left ankle was sending bursts of pain into his foot.

About an hour ago he had discovered that he could slightly bend his left ankle. Strange as it was without feeling much of anything while doing so. And he could contract the muscles in the right leg at will, without actually moving it.

"Cath?" He tentatively asked after a moment.

"I'm still here. I just wonder about this about face, you know?"

"I… I realized that no matter what, I'm still me. And our relationship is not defined by me being able to walk," Steve answered. "Is it?" He asked as an afterthought.

"You are such an idiot, Steve," came the answer over the phone. But thankfully he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Heard that a lot tonight," Steve mumbled. "Catherine, I _**am**_ really sorry, can you forgive me my stupidity?"

"Promise me we will go through this together. No noble acts anymore."

"I promise," Steve honestly answered.

"Good. Then you're forgiven. Now, call the nurse and take something for the pain."

"How did you…"

"Your breath hitched a few times. So, unless you're doing something else…" Cath said with a chuckle at his snort. "You're in pain."

"They gave me some pills, but they are not helping," Steve confessed. "My leg hurts, and my left ankle. But I guess that is a good thing."

"It's not a good thing to be in pain, Steve. Please call the nurse."

"OK, I will," Steve promised. "Cath?"

"Yes?"

"Are we good?"

"Of course we are," came the answer over the phone. "I love you."

"Love you, too. Good night, Cath."

"Night, Steve."

H50 - H50 - H50

Steve was tired. After a short night with little sleep, he just finished his PT. It had been really hard to practice sitting unaided. Ben had helped him sit on a therapy bench and Steve had to keep his balance to not fall off it. In the beginning he had needed Ben's help to stay seated, but after a few minutes he managed to control his muscles enough to sit on his own.

The brace helped him achieve that, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to keep his upper body upright without it. But since he was not allowed to leave the bed without the brace that was not really his concern just yet.

While he was sitting Steve also managed to move his right leg. He couldn't lift it, but he managed to move it forward. And the best part was he could actually feel the movement.

"You did really well, Steve," his therapist praised him.

"Thanks, Ben. It actually felt really good. It felt like I was in control," Steve said.

"You were. You managed to control your upper body really well. That was a really good session," Ben answered. "I didn't really expect this much progress in such a short time."

"It feels like it was just yesterday that I couldn't really move at all," Steve confessed.

Ben had to laugh at that. "It was just yesterday that you could barely move your arm. But sometimes there is progress over night. But you still need to keep working to get better."

"Of course." Steve had no intention of not working hard to get better. "I still can't feel my left leg though," Steve said and massaged his left thigh with his still uncoordinated left hand.

"I'm sure your doctor also explained to you that this," he waved at Steve and the other patients in general. "It is not an exact science. Every injury is very different, and every patient reacts differently. There is no exact plan how your body will come awake again. Or to what degree."

"It's all pretty much guesswork?"

"Well educated guesswork. There is a 'norm' of what can be expected, but there are still way too many variables to predict an exact outcome. Someone with your kind of injury might not ever walk again, whereas you might make a full recovery," Ben explained further. "Steve, we will make every effort to get you back onto your feet, but there are no guarantees."

"I know. And I appreciate your frankness about it."

"Anytime. Are you ready to go back into bed?"

"No, but I'd like to go back into my room. And can you please help me into the power chair?"

"You're not planning another escape, are you?"

Steve had to grin at that. "No, no escaping planned. But Mick and I want to go outside, meet with his wife for lunch."

"Oh, that's great. Sure, I'll get you into the other chair," Ben promised on their way back to Steve's room.

When they entered they were surprised to see a large package on the desk in the room.

"Is that your daily delivery from Grace Williams?" Ben asked and looked at the package. "It's from 'The Supply Store'."

"Great. They promised to deliver it today," Steve said delighted.

"Do I want to know what's in it?" Ben eyed Steve with suspicion.

"Probably not," Steve said with a chuckle. "Relax. Mick and I only want to have something to play with. It's harmless, I promise."

"Huh. Don't get in trouble, Steve. You don't want to get thrown out of here," Ben warned.

"What? Because I ordered some games and stuff? Hardly a reason to throw anyone out," Steve grumbled but thought he had to put 'the stuff' away from prying eyes.

Ten minutes later Ben had Steve sitting in the power wheelchair and fastened the belt that held him upright. Without it he would be in danger of falling forward.

"Are you OK like this?" Ben asked when he was finished placing Steve's feet on the footrest.

"Yeah, it's fine. Thank you," Steve answered and moved the chair toward the table.

"Alright, I'm on my way now. Come to the gym at 1600 hours, we'll do some more walking then."

"Sure," Steve said and waved at his therapist without paying much attention. He was already trying to open the box. Without much success. "Fuck," he grumbled under his breath.

"Hey," Mick called from the door. "Wow, our package is here!"

Steve turned to look at his friend who just came back from various tests. "How did it go?"

"The same. I don't know what they expect. There is no progress to speak of; I really don't know why I have to do these stupid tests," Mick answered in annoyance. "Want me to help?" He asked and motioned to Steve's fruitless attempts to peel off the tape that the store used to close the box.

"Yeah," Steve huffed and pushed the box over to Mick.

"Oh, look at that beauty," Mick said and took out a thin state-of-the-art laptop after he had peeled off the tape. "A card reader? What do we need a card… blank cards? Steve?"

"We might need access to some departments, and for that we need keycards," Steve explained the equipment.

"Uh huh. And how do you plan on getting the information onto the card?" Mick skeptically asked.

"I'll hack into the server where the information is stored and create a master key," Steve explained the obvious.

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Well. Kind of. But nobody will know. Trust me, I've done this for a living," Steve told Mick. "I'll download the software from Five-0 and we're good to go."

"The task force has illegal software on their server?"

"First of all, the software is not illegal, only making fake key cards is… in a way," Steve added. "And second, the stuff is on my personal secure server. There are files on it nobody should have access to." Steve didn't elaborate on what kind of information he had parked on his encrypted server. Not only 'stuff' from the Navy, but also information about his ongoing investigations into his mother and her connections to various agencies and Wo Fat. He had made sure that every little bit of information he gathered would be safe. In case anything happened to him he made sure the information would fall into the right hands.

"Wow, look at this. Night goggles. What the heck do you want with night goggles?" Mick asked but tried his pair on and looked around the room.

"Don't switch them…" Steve warned

"Argh!" Mick called out and ripped the pair off. "Damn," he said and rubbed his eyes.

Steve only shook his head at his friend. "They are NIGHT goggles. For seeing at NIGHT," Steve told him with a chuckle. "Check out the spyglass," Steve said and turned on one of the high-tech equipment pieces.

"Wow. Man, this is cool. What else is in the box? Any weapons?" Mick asked in excitement.

"No, of course not," Steve answered and shook his head. "But communication. In case we get separated," Steve explained and took the two ear pieces out of the box. "They have a range of a few miles and we can even tap into HPD frequency or Five-0 if need be."

"You know that they will have our heads if they find out what we're doing."

"No, they won't. I might be off duty right now, but I'm still the head of Five-0, and the Governor didn't take any privileges from me. So, if I want to investigate something, I can very well do as I please."

Steve glared at his new friend when he only snorted at that explanation.

"I actually meant the Navy, specifically our doctor. He had been livid when you left without permission. If he catches us someplace where we're not supposed to be…"

"Guess we need to make sure then that we don't get caught," Steve answered with a grin.

H50 - H50 - H50

* * *

_**I'm on vacation at the moment, and had tons planned for my time off work. A big project just fell through due to unforeseen circumstances. No, that is not a bad thing. LOL But due to it I have some spare time. And that is why you might, repeat MIGHT, get an extra chapter this week. How is that for a vacation plan? ;-)**_

_**Again a huge thank you to all readers, and especially to everyone who takes the time to review. It really motivates me to write more. That could be considered as a little hint. :-)**_

_**And thanks to Cokie for her ultra fast work on this one.**_


	11. Interlude

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep**

_**Chapter 11 - Interlude**_

It had taken Steve almost an hour to set up the computer. To download all the needed programs and to read through his email. A lot of it had been get-well-wishes from friends and acquaintances and he quickly sorted through that.

It all took a while because Steve had trouble using the mouse. Mick suggested to use the touchpad since it only required the use of one finger. But Steve had never been a great friend of the tiny touch pad, he always preferred the mouse if it was possible. And he also used a separate keyboard, which Mick thought was hilarious.

"What's so funny about that?" Steve asked while he typed on the board.

"Why don't you use the integrated one?"

"Because it's flat and really not useable for writing. To type a few words… it's OK for that, but not for serious work on it," Steve said in what could be called distain.

"You do know that the laptop was invented to have it all in one?"

"Yeah, so? And your point is?" Steve asked and attached the keycard-slot to one of the ports.

"Just saying," Mick answered with a smile.

"Ha. All done. We're set," Steve exclaimed.

"What? You already hacked the system?" Mick whispered in case someone was listening.

"No. We don't have time for that now. Your wife will be here in a few minutes," Steve answered and powered down the computer and disconnected the keycard-slot. "Can you put that in your desk?"

"Sure." Mick took the reader and stowed it into his desk. "Is the computer encrypted?"

"They need my fingerprint to even power it up. Don't worry, no one will take a peek while we're out," Steve assured him.

Before they left Steve went into the bathroom to pee, which took him almost fifteen minutes. It would have taken less time, but Steve insisted on doing at least that on his own. One of the nurses had showed him how to tend to that need without even leaving the wheelchair. The first time he had tried it he had a mishap and needed changing after it, but today it went without a hitch.

In his eyes, it was still not perfect, but way better than to have to insert a catheter to empty his bladder. He would never have thought that he would be so grateful for such small favors. After stowing the container to later be picked up and measured by the nurses, he washed his hands and went to join his friend who waited patiently for him.

"Everything OK?"

"Yeah, it's all good," Steve answered Mick. "Still dry," he joked and wheeled past him.

H50 - H50 - H50

Steve watched in amusement how Jamie pulled his plate toward her and started to cut the steak in small pieces. After a moment she became aware that two sets of eyes were on her.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry," she stammered while blushing. "I'm just…"

"No, it's OK. Actually it would be nice if you could cut the steak, but leave the rest intact please," Steve told her smiling.

She smiled back, obviously glad he wasn't mad at her.

"She did the same to me in the beginning. And I could use my arms," Mick told Steve. "At first she tried to do every little thing for me. Guess it's a normal response seeing one you love struggle," Mick elaborated with a soft smile.

"Oh, come on, I wasn't that bad."

"Yeah, you were. Worse even."

"Guess that stopped at some point?" Steve wanted to know while he took his plate back and thanked Jamie with a nod.

"Oh, we had a huge fight about it," Mick said around a mouthful of baked potato.

"Really?" Steve looked at his two new friends as he tried to get a stubborn piece of broccoli on his fork.

"Yeah. I yelled at her to stop treating me like our three year old," Mick said with a chuckle. "You know, she sat Michael into his high chair and started cutting up both our food."

Steve looked at Jamie and saw that she had blushed even more and was intently looking at her food. "Guess that didn't go over too well," Steve mumbled with his mouth full, remembering his own hard time being fed by the nurse.

"No, not so much. Hey, honey, pass the salt please," Mick said and obviously tried to engage his wife into the conversation.

"So, you had been home? Why are you back here?" Steve wanted to know.

"My accident was a year ago, and after it I spent six months in rehab before I went home," Mick explained. "But about three weeks ago I suddenly developed extreme pain in my back and legs."

"What happened?"

"I had a lumbar disk herniation right above the old injury. Can you believe such shit?" Mick exclaimed and waved his fork around.

"Language!" His wife scolded.

"Mike's not here," Mick defended and turned to Steve. "The pain was worse than when I fractured my back, and it radiates down both legs. The doc said there is enough 'nerve material' left to feel the pain, but not enough to have any movement or control."

"That really sucks," Steve said. "Is that why they have you tested every day?"

"Yeah. A year ago there was no feeling at all. Now they think the nerves let some signals through," Mick answered. "But I can tell you, that is total bullshit. The spine is severed, and no wishful thinking on their part will change that."

"Well, it's not wrong to keep the hope up," Steve told him.

"That's what I'm telling him. But he's so 'adjusted' in his new life that he's not even considering that there might be hope for more," Jamie said a little frustrated with her husband's attitude.

"Listen!" Mick called out. "Steve can still hope, and _**should**_ hope to walk again. That is important for him, and I'm sure he will walk again. But my case is very different," Mick said and paused. "Look, I'm not giving up on anything. But my life turned out pretty good. I'm so grateful to be alive, to be with my wife, to see my son grow up. Sitting in a wheelchair is not the end of life. Sure, it's a challenge every day, but my injury is very low and doesn't affect me in a huge way despite not being able to walk. But I can still live a happy, productive life."

Steve looked at his friend and wondered how much of this was for his wife's benefit and how much he truly believed.

"Don't look at me like that. Sure I have shitty days. Sure I'd love to feel something below the waist, especially in one area… if you know what I mean," Mick explained and wiggled his eyebrows at Jamie. "But that is not gonna happen. I have found that the rest of my life is still really good. I'm happy. Would I be happier if I'd be able to walk? Maybe. I don't know."

"Wow," Steve didn't really know what to say to someone who obviously had come to terms with his handicap. Instead of fighting it he had embraced it and made the best of it. "I hope I will be able to talk like that after it is clear how much function I will get back," Steve honestly said.

"Have they told you what your chances are?" Jamie asked.

"Only that I will not get back to like I was before. My lung will not get back to hundred percent, and there was nerve damage, but they can't say to what extent."

"You know, Steve, doctors don't know everything. You might just as well fully recover," Jamie told him.

"Thanks for the sentiment, but that's not gonna happen. Due to the prolonged pressure, nerves did die. They won't recover. If I'm lucky it won't keep me in this chair for the rest of my life. But I have no illusions about my chances either. I will fight to my last breath to get out of this thing, but I know it will be a hard and probably long fight."

"I just wish Mick had a little of your fight in him," Jamie mumbled.

Steve looked at her in surprise. For him, Mick's attitude was admirable, but obviously there was a different side to it too.

"I did fight. A lot. But at some point you just have to accept that this is the end of the rope. No more fighting. There is nothing more to gain," Mick said patiently. He didn't look angry or show any anger in his voice. It was obvious that the couple had had this argument many times before.

"I think it's called realism," Steve added. "If you don't have that, you'll fight against windmills. And that won't help anyone. It will only exhaust you."

"What he said," Mick exclaimed and again waved his fork around.

"Fine," Jamie agreed. "As long as you still listen to the doctors and give their suggestions a try."

"I can do that," Mick promised.

"That's all I'm asking," Jamie said and bent over for a kiss from her husband.

Steve watched their make-up session a few moments before he cleared his throat. "You two need a minute? I mean, I could just go and eat at the neighbor's table. I'm sure they will welcome me," Steve said while smiling at the five young women at the next table. He had to grin when they started to giggle.

"Sorry, Commander," Jamie said, again blushing.

"Steve. Remember?" Steve answered laughing.

Their easy conversation continued for another half hour until Jamie announced she had to leave to pick up their now four year old son from his grandparents. "I'm sure I will have to listen to Mike recounting every little detail of his surfing lesson," Jamie told them.

"He likes the ocean?" Steve asked.

"Unlike his father, he thinks the ocean is the best thing on earth. His granddad is an avid surfer and Mike loves his little board," Jamie explained.

"When I'm out of here I'd like you to come to my house, I have a beach and we could all go for a swim," Steve invited them. "I mean…" Steve suddenly realized that he again assumed he would get out of the wheelchair at some point.

"I'd love to. I'm sure Mike will love to come to a house with beach access. We all live near the beach, but not on it," Jamie explained. "I'm sure the beach alone will make you his coolest buddy. He loves the word 'buddy' right now," Jamie said laughing.

"Then it's a date," Steve said.

"Hey, don't I have a vote in this?" Mick wanted to know.

"No," came the answer from both Steve and Jamie.

H50 - H50 - H50

* * *

_**So, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude. On Monday our two 'agents' will have some action.**_


	12. Piece Of Cake

_**First of all, I need to apologize to all the nice reviewers for chapter 10 and 11. I just couldn't find the time to reply to all of you. Sorry about that. But I guess you prefer another chapter to a reply anyway. ;-)**_

_**Another thanks to Cokie, who despite being on the road this weekend found the time to take a look at this one.**_

* * *

**Enough To Make The Angels Weep**

**Chapter 12 - Piece of cake**

It was already after two in the afternoon by the time Steve and Mick made it back to their room. Lunch had taken longer than either of them had anticipated.

They were barely in the room when Steve's phone announced a call. Since he had no pockets he could easily reach, Chin had put Steve's phone on a lanyard which he wore around the neck.

"McGarrett," Steve answered when he finally had the phone in his hand.

"Steve, is this a bad time?" Grover asked through the phone.

"No, not at all."

"Good. Listen, Steve. I have the information you wanted on your two guys. I'd like to give it to you in person. I'm close by actually, do you have time right now?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I have PT at four, but until then, I'm free."

"OK, then I'll see you in a few minutes," Grover answered and ended the call.

"Captain Grover is on his way over with the information," Steve informed Mick. "Guess we have to postpone our hacking until after PT."

"While you're at your session I can check out their work schedule," Mick offered.

"Yeah, that would be good."

Ten minutes later Captain Lou Grover walked into the door, and he didn't look very happy.

"Hey, Lou," Steve greeted his friend.

"Don't 'hey-Lou-me'. I want to know what you guys are up to," Grover answered and sat down at the table next to Steve.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked in confusion.

"I ran background checks on your two guys, just like you asked."

"And?" Mick wanted to know, wheeling over to the table to join the others.

"And?" Grover mimicked Mick. "I came up with a few interesting details. Especially about Sanchez."

"What did you find out?" Steve asked.

"You still remember your promise, right?" Lou asked instead of answering.

"To call you if we found out that something was going on?"

"Yes. That one," Grover answered and looked at Steve.

"I remember. Now, what have you found out about the two?"

Grover sighed and opened the folder. "Eric Lundergan, born here on Oahu, his grandparents emigrated from Sweden. He is 29 and works here as a radiology technician for three years. Before that he delivered meds to the floors for the pharmacy until he finished his job training," Lou read from the file. "He was arrested on campus when he was 20 for disorderly conduct… he was drunk," he added with a grin. "But no charges were filed."

"That sounds pretty much unspectacular," Steve said slightly confused.

"Yeah, it is. He has a younger sister, Tori."

"Uh huh." Steve had for sure expected something different. "And Sanchez?"

"He was born and raised in Chicago."

"You're from Chicago," Steve mentioned.

"We're coming to that in a minute," Lou said. "Johnny Sanchez, 29, came to Hawaii four years ago. Eric recommended him for a job here as an orderly about five months ago. These two have nothing in common except the sister who is pregnant with Sanchez' child."

"How do you know that?" Steve wondered.

"Hey, when I do a background check, I do a background check," Lou answered with a grin. "May I continue?"

"Yes, please," Steve said and motioned for him to go on.

"As I said before he's from Chicago. So, I called a friend of mine, and he did some digging. Sanchez has some outstanding tickets in Chicago."

"For how much?" Mick asked.

"Fifteen hundred all in all. Guess there will be a warrant for him soon," Grover answered. "And my friend dug up a sealed youth record. Without a court order we won't know what's in it, but rumor has it charges were about a homicide. But he got off because the defense argued justifiable homicide and he was acquitted."

"That is a pretty detailed rumor," Steve remarked.

"Yeah, well, what can I say," Grover answered smiling.

"No records on him here in Hawaii? I mean four years is a long time for him to stay clean," Mick said.

"He's been arrested a few times, but never charged with anything," Lou said after taking another look into the file.

"What were the arrests for?" Steve wanted to know.

"Mostly bar brawls, one assault and one domestic violence. But as I said… never any charges."

"So, he seems to have a violent streak?"

"Looks that way, Steve. I want you guys to be careful. I think he has been just too clever to get caught yet," Grover said. "The social worker assigned to his case said he's way above average intelligence and could have gotten far if he had focused on something useful." Seeing the questioning look Grover confessed, "The social worker is my old buddy. I worked closely with him back in Chicago."

"Thanks, Lou, this is great work. Especially in this short amount of time," Steve told his friend.

"Now tell me why you wanted to know this. Steve, I know you are a damn capable guy and all, but right now… tell me what these guys did to draw your attention."

Steve looked at Mick and seeing him nod he told Lou what they saw. "It might really be nothing."

"Alright, that is really not much to base an investigation on," Grover agreed. "Tell you what… I will dig a little deeper into these two… see where that leads us. You two watch them. Do not engage. You hear me?"

"Who made you the captain of this operation?" Steve asked.

"You did when you asked for my help," Grover told him.

"Hmpf," Steve grumbled but had to admit he and Mick needed help. With Sanchez' background it could get dangerous. And it was always better to have all bases covered. "OK, but no word to Cath or Danny."

"For now we can keep this between us. But I won't lie," Grover made clear while pointing his finger at the two.

"Not asking you to. Thank you, Lou. We really appreciate your help."

"Sure. Call me as soon as you find something out. OK, I'll be on my way. I'll be back in the morning, hopefully with more information. Take care, you two."

"You too, Lou."

Steve watched the SWAT captain leave and then turned to his roommate. "What do you think?"

"About Sanchez? Doesn't the Navy do checks before they hire someone?"

"He has no record. The youth one is sealed, and as an adult charges were never filed. A normal check would come back clean."

"Huh. You have another test in the morning, maybe you can talk to one of them if they are on duty," Mick suggested.

"Yeah," Steve agreed and took a look at his watch. "I have to go to PT. Will you find out about their schedules?"

"Yeah, OK."

Before Steve left for his next PT session he again used the bathroom and sent a text to Danny. A moment later he received the answer, a smiley. Which brought a smile to his own face.

H50 - H50 - H50

Danny couldn't keep the smile off his face when he read the text from his friend. He answered right away and hollered for his daughter. "Grace!"

"Monkey, I'm sorry," he told her when she came into the room. "I just got a text and we can't make pancakes tomorrow," he explained and waved his phone with the text message around.

He watched his daughter's face fall. "You have to go to work?"

"No… but we are going to have breakfast with Steve tomorrow," he told her with a smile.

"We're going to see Uncle Steve?" she almost shrieked.

"He just invited us to have breakfast with him. I told him we would think about it," he told her with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Danno!"

"Alright, alright, of course we're going to see him. In the morning. You think you can hold your excitement until then?"

His daughter beamed from ear to ear at him showing her happiness. Grace had seen a lot in her life, had suffered a lot of trauma, and it always amazed him what a happy and joyful kid she still was.

H50 - H50 - H50

Steve was soaked in sweat and slightly out of breath. Before Ben had strapped him into the harness and let him walk, he had sat him on a chair with bars left and right. Steve had to push himself upward and forward. These were the first steps needed to transfer out of the wheelchair on his own.

At first he had barely managed to push himself up, especially since his left arm felt very shaky. But after a few tries it went better and he managed to get to the edge of the chair. He was even able to keep his balance without Ben's help.

After a few minutes and many reps Steve had been glad to sit back against the backrest. But his break hadn't been long; Ben secured the harness and now he was walking.

Steve looked down at his moving legs and felt like he was actually moving the right one. He startled when the machine suddenly stopped. "Hey, time's not up," Steve complained. He didn't want to stop and get back into the wheelchair.

"No, it's not. But I want to try something," Ben told him and worked on Steve's left leg. "I locked the brace, so that you have a safe stance. Steve, I want you to stand on your own. I think you can control your right leg to do so. Wanna give it a try?"

So far Steve had always been slightly suspended, so that most of his weight was carried by the harness. "Sure," Steve answered even though he wasn't as sure as he appeared to be.

"OK, grab the bars with both hands. You have a good grip?" Ben asked and corrected Steve's hold on the left bar.

"Yeah, think so."

"The brace will keep your left leg straight and will take the weight; try to keep your right leg straight," Ben explained and took the control for the winch.

Steve braced himself for what was to come and felt how he was lowered and more weight was put on his legs. He felt how his right one slightly trembled under it, but it didn't budge and shortly after he was standing on his own two legs.

"I'm standing," Steve called out in surprise and joy.

He knew that if he could learn to at least stand, maybe with the help of crutches, it would help his circulation and he could avoid many complications associated with sitting in a wheelchair all the time. Maybe he could even learn to move while standing, even if it was only in the safety of his own home. But every minute out of the wheelchair would be a huge benefit to his health.

"Steve, this is absolutely great," Ben told him.

"It feels… amazing. It hurts, but it's amazing," Steve told his therapist with a huge grin on his face.

"What hurts? Where is the pain located?"

"My back, right leg and my left ankle," Steve said and fought to keep his leg from trembling too much.

"The pain in your back, how bad is it?" Ben asked in concern and Steve felt how he was lifted up a little.

"It's a slight stabbing pain, radiating down. It's not too bad," Steve answered.

"Alright. The pain in your leg is from the muscles which haven't been really used the last few weeks. That is nothing to worry about. You complained about pain in your ankle before, I think we should get that looked at. You are on pain management for the nerve pain, aren't you?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't do a damn thing," Steve grumbled. As Catherine had told him, he had called a nurse last night, but the pill she had given him hadn't helped.

"Well, sometimes it takes a while to get the right medication, or the right dosage," Ben explained.

"Yeah, but I've had those meds before, and they always helped," Steve said as he tried to move his right leg.

"That doesn't mean anything. Pain caused by damaged nerves is very tricky to treat. I know how very painful it can get; just hang in there."

Steve was too busy keeping his balance to answer, he just nodded absentmindedly and tried to push himself a little more erect. So far he hadn't been able to move his leg, but he was still standing pretty much on his own legs.

"OK, I'm going to unlock the left leg, try to keep it straight. You ready?"

Steve again nodded, but wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep a part of his body straight if he couldn't even feel it.

And a moment later he had his answer. He couldn't. As soon as Ben unlocked the brace his knee bent and his leg gave way. "Shit," Steve exclaimed when the harness was all that kept him from falling to the floor.

"Hey, it's OK. Don't worry, just because you can't do it now, doesn't mean you won't be able to walk with it later," Ben tried to reassure him.

"I can't feel it. I can move my ankle a little bit, but even that I can't feel," Steve told his therapist when Ben corrected his stance again and locked the brace back in place.

"It seems that your left side is more affected than the right one. But we can work with that, Steve," Ben said as he stepped back to take hold of the control again. "I want you to walk for a few minutes before we end the session. Are you still feeling good?"

"Yeah, I'm OK."

"Good. How's the pain in the ankle?" Ben asked as he watched Steve walk.

"It's not too bad."

"Does it get worse when there is weight on it?"

Steve had to think about that question for a moment, but came to the conclusion that the pain was the same no matter what. "No."

"Huh, doesn't sound like an injury to the joint then," Ben told him. "Maybe it's also nerve related. But I will recommend a CT, to make sure nothing's wrong."

That played right into Steve's plans; with any luck he might see Sanchez or Eric today.

H50 - H50 - H50

_**Radiology department**_

Luck would have it that Steve was squeezed in to have a CT right after his physical therapy. Now he was sitting next to the scanner and waited for Eric to lift him onto the scanner table.

"Everything OK, Eric?" Steve asked the unusually quiet technician.

"What? Oh yeah, yeah, sure. Sorry, I was just a bit preoccupied," came the answer with a forced smile.

"You in any trouble?" Steve felt like a direct approach seemed the best way.

Seeing Eric looking at him with huge, almost fearful eyes confirmed that he had been right. "Ah… no, not really… just, you know… a little trouble with a friend," Eric answered.

"Uh huh. You're working pretty long shifts, don't you?"

"That depends, but never longer than 12 hours."

"Do you sometimes help out in other departments?" Steve wanted to know.

"No," Eric said and helped Steve onto the sliding examination table. This time without a lifter. "Just here. That's enough."

"Argh," Steve grunted out when Eric took his left leg and placed it into the right position on the scanner bed.

"Sorry. Can you lay like that? Does your back hurt?"

"No, it's OK," Steve assured him.

"Here, this will help," Eric promised and put a roll under Steve's knees. "That position takes pressure off the back and legs a little. Is it better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Steve had to admit that the position now was a lot more comfortable.

"Alright, lie still please. We'll be done in a minute," Eric told Steve and left the room, taking the wheelchair with him.

"OK, Commander, it will get loud in a moment, but it will be over real quick. Hold absolutely still please," Steve heard the voice over his headphones. "We will slide you into the scanner now."

It really only took a moment to take a scan of his lower leg and foot, and so he was out of the scanner and back in his chair shortly after.

"Your doctor will discuss the findings with you in your room," Eric told him as they left the room. "Have a good evening, Commander."

Steve was a little surprised at Eric's behavior; the last few times he had been in radiology, the technician always made sure that he made it back to his room OK. But this time Eric seemed in a hurry. Of course, Steve was not going to let this chance pass and followed him.

Eric rounded a corner and Steve could hear him making a phone call.

"No, I can't… I can't meet with you… not now… OK, fine, later… ten on the parking lot… where are… OK, same place like last time… yeah, I got it…"

Steve didn't dare round the corner, but what he had heard was enough to confirm his suspicion that Eric was in some kind of trouble. He and Mick obviously would be busy tonight. Now they only needed to figure out how to get to the parking lot, and more importantly on which parking lot the meeting would happen. Piece of cake.

H50 - H50 - H50


End file.
